Perfectly made, we “clay pots”
This essay was first published on The Daily BS on March 8, 2025.
“(I want) Congress to pass a bill permanently banning and criminalizing sex changes on children and forever ending the lie that any child is trapped in the wrong body. This is a big lie, and our message to every child in America is that you are perfect exactly the way God made you.” – President Donald J. Trump
This bold statement was delivered by President Trump in the United States Capitol on Tuesday past. It was greeted by raucous shouts of approval from one half of the chamber and stony silence from the other. In the heartland and across the fruited plains, millions of citizens cheered. At last, a president was declaring what they, too, believed.
“You are perfect exactly the way God made you.”
Truth, lies, and the things we believe. It’s the lies we believe that hurt us. The number of people who have fallen to this particular delusion is shocking. Convincing children that they can change their own biology at the molecular level and that doing so will ease their pain is nothing short of horrifying. It is a giant middle finger in the face of the Almighty. If there ever was a time to tremble, it is now.
The truth is that we were designed in the image of God. He created us with great intention. Meticulous artist that he is, he planned every detail of these houses in which we live, and he offered them up as a gift.
These wonderful, glorious, imperfect bodies that we have are our vehicles in this world. They carry us about. Through them, we engage with nature. Using our five senses, we experience life here on planet Earth. We see, hear, smell, taste, and touch the world around us and, in so doing, we are soothed, exhilarated, invigorated, inspired, and delighted.
We feel hot and cold. We feel pleasure and pain. We relish the touch of a cool breeze on a hot summer day, and we savor the tartness of fresh lemonade. The aroma of coffee, the song of the cardinal, the grand swell of an orchestral piece, all of it says that we’re alive, that life is good, that all is well.
With these bodies of ours, we engage with other human beings. We look into each other’s eyes. We thrill at the sound of a loved one’s voice. We gather around tables and share meals and conversation. With hugs and kisses, we know love, and our hearts within us can rest.
These amazing bodies of ours can heal themselves. Unlike rocks or trees, there is an entire, intricate process that begins as soon as we sustain an injury or a virus invades. Platelets rush to a wound, and antibodies tackle the germs. The body begins to heal from the inside out.
Our earthly bodies breathe and blink and see and hear, all without conscious thought. Our steady, beating hearts keep us alive, not because of any effort or special intelligence on our part, but because they are made to do it. Thump, thump, thump, all day long and all night. We go to sleep, and we arise with breath in our lungs and red blood in our veins. And for one more day, we move about in our bright, chaotic, messy, and colorful lives.
It is precisely as males and females that we portray something of God in the world. In their masculinity, men mirror certain qualities and characteristics of him. In their femininity, women mirror others. Both are important, both are essential, and the two are equal in value. Together, they portray a more complete picture of him. It gives us a richer, deeper knowledge of what he is like.
Our bodies truly are a gift. When we receive gifts, it is the height of ingratitude to express contempt. It is insulting and hurtful to criticize a gift in the face of the giver. It’s defiant at most, ill-mannered at least, and hurtful every time.
When our children were in elementary school, they would bring home little art projects—animals, small clay pots, creative objects that had no names, formed and painted by clumsy fingers. Blue eyes looking up into my face, they offered me their gifts with a child’s pure love. Imagine their devastation if I had dashed their creations onto the floor, cursing their ineptitude and design flaws.
This is what we do to the Creator when we hate our bodies. It’s true; they do get old. They get frail. They wear out, get sick, and lose their strength and beauty. And yet, they are a gift.
If we are saying things to and about our own selves that we would never say to or about someone else, then we need to come back to Truth. We need to thank the Potter, embracing the “clay pots” in which we live. Then we need to go out into the world, fulfilling our individual purposes.
Let’s truly live while we are alive, grateful for these houses in which we live. Determined that we shall not lose another day to discontentment or despair. A blessing to all around us in our divinely designed clay pots.
Every Saturday, America’s small, caffeinated mom joins Bo on the syndicated James Golden Radio Show, found on your favorite streaming platforms.