As the kiln fires

I absolutely understand Moses asking the Lord to show him His Glory. When I sit before a kiln there is a great heat, a rumble, a bright light and I can picture: THIS IS GLORY

But oh how small this, compared with a Glory which shakes the earth, which causes the face that sees its back to radiate with terrible light. How small, to a Glory which in absence causes darkness at noon and a groaning of the earth. There is no night where the Glory lives!

This kiln before me eases the groaning of my soul for a brief time in the wee hour when the world is still enough that I can stand near and let the heat burn my skin, the rumble fill my ears, the light strike my eyes and my mind and, just for a moment, I grasp eternity. This is why I come back I think. I play at the vocation of the Creator, making things of dirt then visiting the sacred fire which I pretend to control, all so I can feel near to him,

Sometimes I am amazed at the grace which has brought me to sit right here.