Visit our Pottery blog

This is an invitation for you to visit and follow our new blog. My husband and I want to share our pottery with you so please check out thekingandtheflower.wordpress.com to see more of our work and read about the clay process. We will be adding more pictures soon. You can also check out our etsy or contact us through the site to purchase our pottery.

When God Speaks Through His Word and Our Art

The bold black ink on white canvas caught my eye.  As I walked under the shaded outdoor patio of Elevate coffee, I noticed a girl tracing the penciled words with a thin brush; “Wow, that’s beautiful,” I said.  I took a closer look; the canvas read, “For I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content”.

“Can I take a picture of it?” I asked.IMG_0644

She said yes and I clarified, “I’d like to show it to my husband.”  The phrase sounded pleasant though unfamiliar and I smiled.  I stretched out my hand and introduced myself.  My new friend’s name is Jasmin.  I promised her I would return to see the finished product.

God has done this before.  Once before Asa and I started dating, I was looking at his pottery on the shelves at Desert Dragon.  He had carved around his vessel the words: “Now the Lord is the Spirit and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom.”  The Lord had been speaking these words same words to my heart.  He was using them to make me desire holiness and freedom from sin.  Now, Asa and I had barely talked at this point.  In fact, I had seen him throw and had not appreciated his work.  It wasn’t until I saw his carved pottery that I realized how talented he is.  A couple days later, I apologized to him, “I’m sorry, but I totally underestimated you,” I said.  He smiled and proceeded to win my heart and marry me months later.

But the point of my story is that God speaks to us often through His Word and moreover, through art, which I love.  When I saw Jasmin’s canvas, I saw God’s faithfulness.  I know I can trust him.  Despite the fact that, last night, my husband and I talked about silence, uncertainty and money, I know I cannot falter in my heart when it comes to God.  Because he told me, “I can do all things through Him who strengthens me”.  He reminded me of his Word last night.  And then, there it was today in black and white: “I have learned in whatever situation I am to be content”.

Inside of elevate, I found a friend from the ceramics studio.   “I just saw Asa last night at the studio!”  Heather hugged me and congratulated us.  We sat on the couches near the window.  On the other side friend continued working on her lettered canvas.  I felt in my heart something/someone say, “That canvas is yours.”  I continued to share pictures from the wedding.  My friend and I chatted for a while until I finished my Mocha Frappuccino and she needed to leave to pick up her kids from school.

I returned to my new friend Jasmin on the other side of the glass.  She was sitting with her finished canvas and her boyfriend, Washington.  I asked her why she picked that verse in particular.  “Sometimes God speaks a verse into my heart for that particular season of my life.  This is a time of transition for me and I felt like this verse spoke to that.”

“I love it,” I said.

Washington handed me the canvas, “It’s yours.”

Dear Lord Jesus, I always underestimate you.  I pray you continue to show me your faithfulness through your people, your Word and our art.  Thank you because you are not silent.  Give me ears to hear and eyes to see.  In your name, Jesus, Amen.

“Not that I am speaking of being in need, for have learned in whatever situation I am to be content.  I know how to be brought low and I know how to abound. In any and every circumstance, I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need.  I can do all things through him who strengthens me.” Philippians 4:11-13IMG_0648

Teach for America Day 2: Unexpected Adventures in the Phoenix Sun

My TFA Experience

Sacaton Red-on-Buff decorates the pottery of the Hohokam people Sacaton Red-on-Buff decorates the pottery of the Hohokam people

 

Day two with TFA and AZ is sizzling. 102 degrees and rising. But I love the sun and we just got back from the Pueblo Grande Museum. We got to look at some clay artifacts. Ceramics has a very special place in my heart so I’m still giddy from looking at Hohokam art.

After exploring the museum, we also got the opportunity to hear from three wonderful speakers about ethnic and cultural diversity in Arizona and immigration. As future teachers and leaders, we are encouraged to educate ourselves on the subject and offer students a platform to tell their stories as well as open ears to listen and learn from them. One of my fellow corps members commented that issues with social class and inequity transcend race. Often times we are all working and hoping for the same change. Communities…

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In the Name of Tradition

This was my first traditional thanksgiving dinner. Who says what makes up tradition anyway? When I tell you that there was a stuffing, sweet potatoes lathered in marshmallow melt, and a giant bird that took too long in the oven, you nod and tell me that’s tradition. I’ll tell you, I don’t know what we normally have for Turkey Day. Whatever we feel like eating that day, I guess. Tacos, menudo, maybe some pizza. We might have ordered Chinese one year. The menu always varies.
My Tia Mary decided to host thanksgiving dinner this year at her little bungalow in South Chicago Heights. She married an Italian-American guy with a fascination for Native-American artifacts. There’s a cabinet in their living room with Windex-ed glass and baked clay on the other side.
“Just because you made it doesn’t mean it should be fired,” said Billy about our creations last Thursday in the Ceramics studio. “Remember these things are going to outlive you. Choose carefully. Or I’ll have to choose for you.”
Back in Tia Mary’s house, I stared at Uncle Tony’s collection through the glass and wondered whose hands this pot outlived. Tia Mary noticed my interest and snickered. “I tell Tony I’m gonna take him to Mexico,” she mocks, “to the dump where they throw all the burnt and broken ollas.” She shook her head at the blackened pot made with coils of clay with careful hands.
While we waited for the bird to bake, Uncle Tony showed me his arrow head collection.
“I find them in the trails,” he said, “after it rains.” I wondered where the people are. I have my guess. He told me there are burial grounds. I wonder if he’s ever heard of Manifest Destiny. He knows a guy who found a skull after a storm in a construction site. Funny. The things that out-last us.
The bird comes out of the oven anticlimactically. We pray a blessing over it and devour it in the name of tradition.