Make Me Something, Daddy

Make Me Something Daddy

“Make me something, Daddy,” the little girl said, expectantly holding out a tiny handful of Playdough. The child knew that the creative powers Daddy could bring to bear on that lifeless piece of clay dwarfed that of her own. Daddy’s repertoire of sculptures to create was infinite. Daddy’s hands could magically transform that pliable goop into a powerful lion or a beautiful ballerina while the child’s hands more often created a sticky mess.

“Give me a little more to work with,” said the father, eager to create something wonderful for his child. Tentatively, she looked at the three brand new cans of clay he’d bought at the store just for her that day — bright orange, deep blue and her favorite, “sunshiney yellow.” She took a stingy pinch of the orange between her thumb and finger, and reluctantly handed it over.

Seeing that the little girl wasn’t willing to give him much more, the father smiled and said, “OK. I’ll just work with this.”

Isn’t it much the same with our heavenly Father? Our personalities, our very lives are gifts from Him, more varied than the colors of Playdough. The creative powers He can apply to shape our lives are limitless. The marvelous possibilities of what we can become in His formative Hands are endless. And He is so eager to sculpt something wonderful into our lives– something powerful, something beautiful, something He knows will be perfect for us, because He knows all of our “favorites.”

Yet how often are we stingy with the Playdough of our lives? Does He get our whole calendar or just an hour on Sunday? Does He get our checkbook or just an obligatory check here and there? Do we give Him our dreams and plans saying, “Reshape them if you want.”?  Do we give Him our families in prayer each day so that He can shape them, too, or do we try to hold things back and control it all ourselves?

There was a time in life when I’d shut my Playdough can ever so tightly to God. With all the maturity of a two year old, I had my plans, my money, my life — mine, mine, mine. After years of selfish living I found myself one dark Friday with unpaid bills, the walls of a tiny apartment closing in and echoes of my boss’s threat to fire me ringing in my ears. There at rock bottom, I reluctantly cracked the Playdough lid. I began to open my life to Jesus to see what He would do with it. After all, doing things my way had left me with nothing more than a sticky mess.

Now after 15 years of emptying my Playdough into Jesus’ Hands daily (I have a bad habit of periodically trying to take some back), He has done more with my life than I could have asked or imagined. I’m still a work in progress, but that’s certainly a step up from being the poster child for Stinginess with God. May I encourage you to turn your life completely over to Jesus?

Don’t force Jesus to say, “OK. I’ll just work with this.” The more you hold back, the less you end up with in the long run. My prayer for you is that you will expectantly hold out all the Playdough of your life to God saying, “Make me something, Daddy.”

Bible Verses to ponder:

Yet, O Lord, you are the Father.
We are the clay, you are the potter;
we are all the work of your hand.
(Isaiah 64:8)

Does not the potter have the right to make out of the same lump of clay
some pottery for noble purposes and some for common uses?
(Romans 9:21)

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