In Isaiah 64 the Mother Is Clay Too

I think most of what I try to fix in my kids isn't broken. It's just not how I would have done it.

That's an uncomfortable thing to type, because I've got a long list of fixes and they all feel reasonable when I'm making them. Come Follow Me starts Isaiah 58-66 tomorrow (October 12 through 18) and somewhere in that stretch is the line everyone reaches for when they talk about shaping a child. I've reached for it myself, usually as if I were the one at the wheel.

What Isaiah 64:8 is actually saying

But now, O Lord, thou art our father; we are the clay, and thou our potter; and we all are the work of thy hand.
Isaiah 64:8

Read the verses on either side before you put this on a kitchen magnet. Verses 5 through 7 are a confession, and the speakers say plainly that they've sinned and that no one is calling on the Lord. Verse 9 follows with "Be not wroth very sore, O Lord, neither remember iniquity for ever: behold, see, we beseech thee, we are all thy people." So the clay line sits in the middle of people asking for patience. They aren't saying God molds them gently. They're saying, we belong to you, please don't give up on us yet.

What stood out to me is that the potter in the verse is the Lord, and the people speaking are clay, every one of them, which puts me in the pile and not behind the wheel. I'm a lump of clay with opinions, standing over two other lumps of clay and sighing.

Jeremiah 18 has the better-known potter scene, and it's worth knowing what it says and doesn't. Verse 4 reads "And the vessel that he made of clay was marred in the hand of the potter: so he made it again another vessel, as seemed good to the potter to make it." The chapter goes on in verses 7 through 10 to talk about nations. Still, I take one small thing from verse 4 for myself. The potter didn't discard the clay. I would like to be as patient with a slow eight-year-old as that.

A teacher's story about a boy named Rowan

Years ago, in my third year of teaching, I had a boy named Rowan who couldn't be hurried. Directions took him a long time to land. He lined up his pencils before a spelling test and held up the whole room. At conferences in October his father, Mr. Alden, sat in the little chair with his knees up near his ribs and asked how I could get Rowan to speak up and move faster.

I gave him a teacher answer that I don't remember. What I remember is February, when we ran a class store and Rowan ran the register. He counted back change to the penny and never once rang up the wrong thing. The other kids lined up for his line, because he was the only one who got it right. The thing his father wanted fixed was the thing that made him good at that job.

Rowan still needed help finishing things and we worked on that all year, so I'm not offering him as proof of anything, only that I wasn't trying to turn him into a different child, which I think is what his father was afraid I'd have to do.

How I sort a habit before I try to fix it

There isn't a formula, only a short check I run: does the habit hurt another person, does it put the child at risk, does it involve saying something untrue. A yes to any of them means I correct it and I don't apologize for that. A shove is a shove whatever the temperament behind it, and a fib to get out of trouble gets dealt with.

Everything else goes in the other pile, pace and volume and how long a child needs to go quiet before she tells you what's wrong. Lily taught me that last one at bedtime, which I wrote about in Lily Asked Me to Stay and Not Say the Thing. Caleb narrates. At eleven he does sound effects for his own dinner, and I have a bad habit of saying "okay, inside voice" when what's really happening is that I'm tired. Lily is eight and needs a long runway for everything. She wants to look at the whole of a thing before she steps into it. I used to read that as stalling. Mostly it's her checking where the floor is.

What I'd been calling correction was mostly me wanting my own temperament back in the room.

The middle zone

That sorting sounds easier than it is, because there's a middle zone where the habit isn't hurting anyone but it will cost the child later. Caleb talks over people. Lily won't ask a teacher for help. Both are real, and what I do is name what's coming instead of sanding the child down. I tell Caleb that when he talks over somebody, that person quietly stops telling him things. With Lily I practice asking for help in the kitchen on a Saturday, with nobody watching, so it's less of a leap on a Tuesday at school.

I try to say all of it as a fact about the world and not a verdict on who they are. "Loud" is a description and "you're too loud" is a ruling, and I flip between the two more than I'd like.

Thursday dinners are Caleb's, and I stay out of them, which I wrote up in Don't Leave the Kitchen When Your Kid Cooks Dinner.

Frequently Asked Questions

What does "we are the clay, and thou our potter" mean in Isaiah 64:8?

It's part of a prayer from people who have sinned and are asking the Lord not to stay angry. They call him father and potter and call themselves the work of his hand. The verse is about belonging to God and asking for patience.

Is a parent the potter in Isaiah 64:8?

No, the potter in the verse is the Lord. A parent is clay in that picture, which is a humbling thing to notice at about 5:30 on a school day.

How do I tell which habits to correct and which to leave alone?

I ask whether it hurts someone, puts the child at risk or involves a lie. Those get corrected. Pace, volume and how a child processes feelings I mostly try to live with.

What do I say to a child about a trait that frustrates me?

Describe it and keep the verdict out. "You talk a lot when you're excited" is true and survives being said out loud. I also tell them the part that's mine, like "I'm tired, that's why I snapped," so they don't think the trait caused it.

Does Jeremiah 18 mean God throws away a flawed vessel?

Not in verse 4, where the potter remakes it into another vessel. The chapter is addressed to a nation, so I'd be careful about stretching it to one child.

If you've been circling a child's habit all week, take it to the three questions before you take it to the child. Most of mine fell off the list.

with love, Melissa