Uncomfortable Clay, Beautiful Hands

Hey fam,

This is a rare time where I’m just free-flowing as I write. I didn’t come here with an agenda or some new revelation. Honestly, it’s just been on my heart all day to write since I haven’t in a while. I really believe it’s a nudge from the Holy Spirit. I’m not even sure what we’re doing here, but I prayed first lol, so here we go.

Life has been… interesting lately. And by “interesting” I mean uncomfortable. The Lord has been instructing me over and over (and over and over) to “let go of control and depend on Him.” In some aspects, like during prayer, that feels easier. But in other aspects—like resisting the urge to make a to-do list just to calm my anxiety? Not so easy lol.

I’m really trying to be obedient, though, and not turn to my own vices for comfort. Y’all, I’ve had so many tantrums with the Lord these last few weeks. What’s surprising is that He doesn’t shame me for it. Instead, He just affirms me for bringing it to Him and not leaning on myself. I believe He’s doing something beautiful. I think I know what He’s doing, but I don’t know the how. And that’s where the wrestling comes in—me and God, going back and forth on the “how,” as if I could somehow do it better.

Deep down I know He wins in the end, but letting go is so uncomfortable. It feels like being a bystander in my own life—watchful, waiting, ready for when He gives instructions. That “dependence” muscle of mine? Weak. But that’s exactly what He’s working on.

And part of that work is learning His pace. God’s speed is uncomfortable for me—it feels slow, present, patient. Meanwhile, my personality is task-oriented: “get it done fast and at all costs, where there’s a will there’s a way.” I’m not fighting against Him to move faster right now, but I do catch myself distracting in the slowness—keeping busy until He moves, instead of depending on Him in the discomfort.

In seminary, we’re learning about John 15:1-5, and it’s been sitting heavy with me:

“I am the true grapevine, and my Father is the gardener.
He cuts off every branch of mine that doesn’t produce fruit,
and he prunes the branches that do bear fruit so they will produce even more.
You have already been pruned and purified by the message I have given you.
Remain in me, and I will remain in you.
For a branch cannot produce fruit if it is severed from the vine,
and you cannot be fruitful unless you remain in me.
Yes, I am the vine; you are the branches.
Those who remain in me, and I in them, will produce much fruit.
For apart from me you can do nothing.” (John 15:1-5, NLT)

I hope y’all actually read the passage and didn’t just skip over it lol.

This scripture reminds me that I cannot grow myself. I truly believe everything is spiritual, and that my purpose on this earth is to serve God and be a part of His kingdom. So when it comes to my life, these words hit deeply.

I cannot grow myself.
I cannot make myself holy.
I cannot accomplish God’s will through my great ideas, or by all the theological books I read, or even by following ministry leaders I look up to.
I cannot innovate anything in my life without Him—because I’ve given my life to Him.

I’m not the Gardener—controlling, knowing seasons, planting, pruning, choosing what grows.
I’m not the Vine—I cannot nourish or be a source of strength.

I’m simply a recipient.
My only task is to stay connected—to remain open, to depend on, and to cling to Jesus the Vine.

Today, I was listening to a song and the lyrics hit me hard:

“I don’t want to build what You would tear down.
This is not an empire—it’s Your kingdom.
I’m sorry that I tried to be the king.
I didn’t even realize You were missing.
From now on, let my posture be low. I bow down.”

As beautiful as these lyrics are, they’re not easy to live out. The Lord knows I am independent, a leader, driven, visionary, and a problem-solver. But those strengths aren’t what He’s asking me to lean on right now. In this space, He has instructed me to be a servant. In His kingdom, the call is to submit to him and serve. “The first shall be last and the last shall be first.” And that was His example too—service—washing His disciples’ feet– dying to redeem humanity.....

I don’t know how to land this plane, y’all, and honestly I don’t mind that it doesn’t land pretty. I’m still in the middle of it.

Right now, God is molding me. I’m learning what it means to be soft clay in His hands—pliable, surrendered, willing to be reshaped. And it’s not comfortable. Clay doesn’t get reshaped without pressure. But even in the discomfort, His hands are steady. He knows exactly what He’s forming. And I know this much: whatever He puts His hands on will turn out beautiful.

So for now, we’ll wait. We’ll thank Him in the meantime, and we’ll anticipate His glory.

—Briana Breathes