Musings on Formation II.

I’m not a potter, but the word “formation” always makes me think of clay. With the help of the wheel and the potter, a lump of clay can be formed into a mug, a bowl, a plate, or any number of things. The end result, of course, is lovely; whether it be conventionally beautiful or not, anything handmade has a certain element of charm to it, in my opinion. 

But before the process of formation, and even during it, that lump of clay is…well, ugly. It’s droopy, wet, and sticky. Where’s the beauty in that? 

Well, I think it’s still there.

I have to admit, though, that it’s difficult to see any sort of beauty in the lump of clay before it’s formed into something, much less during its time on the potter’s wheel. It’s just so messy. It splatters everywhere, losing pieces of itself, collapsing in on itself, probably making the potter’s life infinitely more difficult than it needs to be. How are you supposed to see anything beautiful in that?

Frankly, I don’t know if there’s a concrete methodology for seeing any sort of beauty in splatters of clay. For me, it has to do with seeing beauty in the process of formation itself. I wouldn’t be thrilled if I were making a mug and accidentally threw clay all over my favorite shoes, but I could still manage to see something good in the struggle. There’s beauty in the endeavor to create something beautiful.

Calling a lump of clay ugly doesn’t have any serious consequences; hating ourselves, however, as our Creator puts us through the process of formation greatly hinders the process. The stakes are a lot higher when it’s us, not a lump of clay, undergoing the process of formation. We’re messy, and more often than not, we have some ugly tendencies that God tries to smooth How do we approach formation, then, when we’re the ones going throughout? How do we find beauty in something that is usually very painful for us?

Unfortunately, I can’t give a concrete answer to that, either. But I’ve found that looking for beauty in smaller processes of formation is helpful. When I write rough drafts, I treat them as something helpful, something lovely, even though I’ll rewrite most of the content. Getting flour all over the counter when I’m baking things is all part of the process that will result in something delicious that I can share with my friends. This doesn’t necessarily make it easier to navigate the process of formation when I’m going through it myself; if I were a piece of clay, I wouldn’t be a very malleable one. But there’s beauty in being messy, in being formed.

At least, I hope so. Like I said, I’m not a potter.

Jaime Miller, Poetry Editor.