The same sun that melts the wax hardens the clay.
sentence to diagram in a grammar book
I’m sure you’ve all heard things like that before. “The same boiling water that softens the potatoes hardens the eggs.” “The same fire that melts the butter hardens steel.” It’s about what you’re made of, not the circumstances.
I could talk about how trials test what you’re made of; how your reaction to hardships is based on the type of person you are; how different people will respond differently to the same thing because, well, they’re different people.
But I want to look at this sentence another way.
Wax has to be soft to be used. It has to be melted before it can seal envelopes, be poured into candle molds, etc. If it’s hard, you can’t use it.
Clay has to be hard to be useful. At first, yes, it needs to be soft so it can be shaped. But then it needs to harden, needs to pass through the fire, before it can be used as a pot or vase or whatever the potter created.
The same sun melts one and hardens the other. And it’s not necessarily about what they’re made of–it’s about what they are designed to do, about how they will be used.
Apply this to Christians.
Some of us were wax: lifeless, hard, deciding we’d rather break than be pliable–useless. Some of us were clay: a gooey mess, too easily crushed and changed, shifting with every pressure–useless.
Then Jesus–the Son of God, the sun that lights up the world–stepped in. He melted the ones made of wax; warmed them up, made them pliable and usable–gave them worth. He hardened the ones made of clay; made them able to withstand pressure and able to be used–gave them worth.
And it wasn’t necessarily about what we were made of. It’s about what we were designed to do, about how we will be used, about what our planned purpose is.
The same Son melts the wax and hardens the clay.
