Treasure in Jars of Clay

For what we proclaim is not ourselves, but Jesus Christ as Lord, with ourselves as your servants for Jesus' sake. For God, who said, “Let light shine out of darkness,” has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.  But we have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us.  2 Cor 4:5-7

This blog post is dedicated to the people who were the jars of clay that God used to bless and teach and mentor me in my youth.   His treasure leaked out through these jars, these heroes.   Without them, I wouldn’t be the person I am today.   I am incredibly grateful for each of them.  

Each one was very ordinary and yet extraordinary, in their own, unique way.

Each of them was faithful to their God at the time that their lives intersected mine.   Each of them was passionate about loving God and loving people.    

They weren’t perfect and many of them, I’m sure, felt those imperfections keenly.   But, they held God’s treasure in those jars of clay, and they willingly shared that treasure with me and it changed my life.  

Most of them have gone on to heaven now, and I’m looking forward to catching up with them one day.   Heaven is going to be awesome!

This blog post has been brewing for a while, but I’ve needed to gather information and photos.   The gathering of that information and the photos has reminded me, again and again, of God’s hand on my life from the beginning.   That’s a good reminder, because the God who was faithful then, will continue to be faithful, and I need that reminder now, on the hard days, the days when the what-ifs steal my peace.   Before I even knew to consider the what-ifs, God was working in my life and providing for me.  

In Your book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed for me, when as yet there was none of them.  Ps 139:16

This is the house I lived in until I was 14.   It wasn’t grey then, but it was home.    So many memories, some of them good, some of them painful.   But God was so faithful to me, when I didn’t even know Him, and didn’t know I needed Him.  He provided good people in my life.

For what You have done I will always praise You in the presence of Your faithful people. And I will hope in Your name, for Your name is good.  Ps 52:9

Firstly, there were the neighbours who had an impact on my life.   Mrs Mirow lived just up the road and offered to take my older brother and I to church.   I started going when I was 7 and my brother tolerated that for a while and then dug his heels in.  I loved church and I hated missing out.  I will always be grateful to Mrs Mirow and for how God used her in my life.   It’s no small task to take someone else’s children to church every week.   There was Mrs Dalgliesh who lived across the road.   She would often stop and talk to my Mum.  They were both British so Mum really appreciated the connection.    I don’t remember Mrs Dalgliesh speaking of the Lord, but she was a beautiful lady and I suspect she was a Christian.   I remember spending time in her home, doing craft projects.   I distinctly remember one positive conversation with her that gave me hope when things were quite difficult at home.    And then there was Mary, who lived across the road in the other street.   She went to the same church as me, and as I got older, she became a strong influence in my life.    I’m pretty sure she was someone who prayed for me and my family regularly.   Did God park my family in that street so that our lives intersected with theirs?   I suspect so.  

He marked out their appointed times in history and the boundaries of their lands.  God did this so that they would seek Him and perhaps reach out for Him and find Him, though He is not far from any one of us.  Acts 17:26-27

I first met Aunty Betty (Matheson and later Hawkins) when I was 12.  I don’t know how I came to meet her, but I remember her coming to our home and asking if I’d like to go to a camp for kids who didn’t get a chance to go on family holidays.  That was us.   Mum decided that was a good idea, so I went.   It was for ten days, straight after Christmas, on a bus, to the coast at Tahlee Bible College (now a YWAM base).   It was the first time I’d been away from my family and it was a real eye opener.   I met people who spoke of getting ‘converted’.   I met people whose lives had been a mess until Jesus came into their lives.   It was all new to me.  I’d never heard of being converted, or making Jesus Lord, or that I needed to get serious about God.  I was pretty sure I was a Christian.  I had been going to church since I was 7 after all.  I was pretty sure I wasn’t a ‘sinner’ and I didn’t need ‘saving’, thank you very much.     One night that changed.  I sat and listened to a high school teacher speak of how God turned his life around, saved him out of alcoholism, and set him on solid ground.    That night, I sat on my bed and confessed my need of forgiveness and my need of Him.   I didn’t tell anyone but somehow Aunty Betty knew.  

Aunty Betty mentored me for many years.   She came to the high school ISCF meetings and prayed with us, every week.   She organised mid-year camps, she took me to her church (I regularly went to two churches every Sunday), dropped me home after church, and she was just available when I needed someone to talk to.   She hated photos of herself, and she was not very confident, but she loved Jesus and loved telling people about Him, loved helping and serving people, loved to pray for people and with people.   She later married Lindsay, and together they ministered to many, many people well into their old age.     She wasn’t fancy, wasn’t rich, wasn’t eloquent, had lots of problems, but she was very loving and she was very loved.   Her brokenness allowed the treasure to leak out even more so than those who apparently had it all together.   She had faith in a big God and she prayed – a lot!    Only heaven will reveal how many were touched by her life.  

Grant was a young man I met when I was 12, and he was in his early 20s.   I met him at the first camp I went to.  Grant was newly converted and was so in love with the Lord.   He was so different to the very conservative church-goers of my Presbyterian experience.  He was a rough diamond, but he loved the Lord passionately because God had forgiven him much. 

He was the first to make me realise that going to church didn’t make me a Christian.  I needed to actually make Jesus Lord.   He didn’t directly lead me to the Lord, but he greatly influenced my decision to commit my life to the Lord, and he was a great mentor for several years.   I remember walking through the small graveyard attached to Tahlee, with Grant and several others, and read this on a gravestone:  “Reader let this admonish thee of the uncertainty of the present life, and may God’s Holy Spirit teach thee so to live that death may never find thee unprepared”. 

Obviously, it lodged in my long-term memory because I can quote it verbatim, even now.  I remember Grant using it as a teachable moment.  He continually challenged me to get serious about God, and to live my life for Him, especially at school.  

Recently, I had the privilege of meeting his amazing oldest daughter, Aime, in rather unusual circumstances, and it is such a blessing to know her and see her loving the Lord so passionately.

I attended St Andrews Presbyterian church from the time I was 7 till I left town at 19.   The minister, Charlie, and his wife, Ellen, who were there for most of my time at St Andrews, were such lovely, gentle people.  I grew to understand in that church that God’s Word is infallible, and that God could be trusted.   I don’t remember specific sermons, but their humility and integrity  has been somewhat of a yardstick for measuring other Christian leaders throughout the years.

Mrs Brunskill was the choirmaster at our church, plus so much more.   So many times, I’ve wondered who it was that prayed for me and my family, and her name has come to mind again and again.   She taught us to sing and was such a lovely lady, unless we sang off key!   If anyone sang off key, we’d have to practise the song all over again.   Every Monday afternoon was spent at choir practice.   She also taught us elocution and mentored us in Bible reading at the local Eisteddfod.  I will always be grateful for what I learnt under her – the hymns, the technical aspect of singing, learning to be comfortable speaking in front of people.   I am grateful for her love for the Lord and for her prayers. 

Mrs Puchy was my favourite Sunday School teacher.    She took a class of 12-14 year old girls and she treated us like young adults.   She did more than just teach us stories, she expected more, drew it out of us.   I was in her class the year I got converted and it was such good timing.   She taught us to memorise Scripture.  Our first challenge under her was the famous passage from 1 Corinthians 13.   We had to memorise the whole chapter.    But she lived it and that made it real to me.

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.  It does not dishonour others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.   Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.   It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.   1 Corinthians 13:4-7

More than that, her love for the Lord was contagious and her quiet grace and humility have stayed with me through the years.   

She epitomised the unfading beauty of a gentle and quiet spirit, which is of great worth in God’s sight.  1 Peter 3:4

She left behind a legacy of children and grandchildren who love the Lord today.   She went to be with the Lord in 1987.    Recently, I had the privilege of reconnecting with her daughter, Del, and son-in-law, Ian, and they kindly shared memories and photos with me.   

Then there was Jo, who I’m now blessed to do church with, all these years later.   She was a few years older than me, and we connected through ISCF and camps.  She was and still is contagiously joyful and lovely and wise, and back then she inspired me to see that it was possible to be a happy Christian, even in our difficult high school environment.   I still have fond memories of us, together with a few others, monkey-walking down the beach near Newcastle, not very successfully because we couldn’t stop laughing.  We tried it again recently, only to discover that we have a few more lumps and bumps than we did back then.       

This was my dear friend, Fiona.   My goodness, what a gift and example she was to me!   She was so passionately in love with the Lord from a young age.   We were the same age, went to the same church, did Sunday School, choir, youth group and ISCF together, and eventually became close friends in senior high school.    Fiona had a stability and relationship with the Lord that I craved.   She thought deeply about God, loved Him dearly, challenged me to think deeply, and taught me so much.   We played guitar and sang together.    I think I learnt just as much from her, musically, as I did from Mrs Brunskill.   

I often spent time in her home, with her parents and siblings, and realized that my family life was not normal after all.    Her parents, John and Mary, became my extra parents, and blessed me in many ways, filling the gaps that my own parents didn’t see or couldn’t meet.   

Fiona and I were the only Christians in our senior high school years, so we toughed it out together.    I’m not sure I would have continued to identify as a Christian at school without her strength and companionship.   High school is so formative and it was a tough place to be a Christian.    After school finished, we learnt together the highs and lows of young adulthood.     When I stayed at her flat, we often laughed until we cried, and drank far too much coffee.   And then she became my only bridesmaid.    We’ve kept in touch over the years, sharing our joys and sorrows.    Her continual courage and faithfulness to love and follow Him, through the good times and the hard times, has been such a light and encouragement to me.     

And God provided me with Dave, my hubby of over 35 years now.   We met at camp over the years and finally started courting when I was nearly 17, in my final year at school.  We married when I was 19 and moved away from our home town.   Somehow, we’ve muddled through many, many challenges, good times and bad, two very broken jars of clay, though back then we didn’t know just how broken we were.   We were doing our best to be squeaky clean and make our jars look shiny.   I’m very grateful that the Lord took us to a new town and challenged much of our stinking self-righteousness.   He is still in the process of breaking those jars of clay so that His treasure pours out as it should.   

Together, we've raised three girls to adulthood, and are now raising two more. 

At our wedding, Fiona and Greg (her hubby now) sang 'Doubly Good to You' and indeed the Lord has been doubly good to me.  

I'm grateful that God gave me a home with a man who's been a hard worker, and a good provider.   

Were there other jars of clay?  Yes, definitely.   There were others who shared their treasure with me.   Some people in our lives have had major roles, others minor ones.   But even the ‘little’ things we do for people can have a big impact on them.  There were many who touched my life in smaller, but still significant ways, who will never know that they did.  

It’s such a great reminder not to limit the treasure I could be sharing with others, simply because I underestimate the size of the treasure or don’t value the jar of clay it’s contained in.   He is a God who takes a little and turns it into a lot.    This side of heaven, I cannot see or measure that, any more than my heroes were able to, nor should I.  Like the little boy with five loaves and two fish, I should simply offer Him my jar of clay, and the treasure He’s placed there, and allow Him to do what He will with it.  

…….for God loves a cheerful giver. And God is able to bless you abundantly, so that in all things at all times, having all that you need, you will abound in every good work.   2 Cor 9:7-8

I’m so incredibly grateful that He was writing my story before I even knew Him, before I recognized my need of Him, before I knew how much I would need the stability and hope that these people offered me.   These people and the community of faith that they lived in, gave me an identity that I desperately needed, and it saved me from my brokenness creating a different identity and a potentially destructive lifestyle.   The outcome could have been very different. 

All of that gives me hope for my future, because He has been there all the way through, before I knew to ask, before and beyond even the memories I have penned here.   The God of my past is the God of my present and the God of my future.   So, when I choose to remember that, the many what-ifs fade in the light of His faithfulness. 

I remain confident of this:  I will see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living.
Wait for the Lord; be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord.  Ps 27:13-14 

I've just discovered this beautiful song, that combines the lines from some of the hymns and truths I grew up with.  It's a powerful reminder of the faithfulness of my God.  

And all of the promises, all of the praise
All of Your people have sung through the ages
No matter the season, the song is the same
Great is Your faithfulness, great is Your name
And all of the promises, all of the praises
All of Your people have sung through the ages
No matter the season, the song is the same
Great is Your faithfulness, great is Your name
Great is Your faithfulness, great is Your name