“The Clay and the Ripple”
There was a time I thought I had to earn my place here.
That I had to prove my worth through perfection, performance, and pain.
But grace—grace interrupted me.
It didn’t arrive with thunder.
It came as a whisper.
A verse, tucked into the folds of my becoming:
“For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.”
(Ephesians 2:10)
I didn’t read it. It read me.
It found me in the middle of my undoing.
When the scaffolding of who I thought I was began to crumble,
and all that remained was breath, bone, and a question:
Who am I, really?
That verse didn’t answer me. It invited me.
To remember that I am not a mistake.
Not a project.
Not a performance.
I am a work of art.
A vessel of divine intention.
A ripple of sacred design.
The good works?
They are not tasks on a checklist.
They are the fragrance of my becoming.
The overflow of a life surrendered, sculpted, and set ablaze.
I began to write—not to impress, but to transmit.
Not to teach, but to unveil.
Each word became a thread in the tapestry of remembrance.
Each story, a mirror.
Each silence, a sanctuary.
I realized:
God didn’t just save me.
He shaped me.
He prepared the path before I even knew how to walk it.
And now, I walk it—not with certainty, but with devotion.
Not with answers, but with presence.
I write as one who has been undone and remade.
As one who carries the scent of surrender.
As one who knows that the ripple is not in the reach,
but in the resonance.
So if you’re reading this,
know that your becoming is not random.
You are not behind.
You are not broken.
You are being sculpted.
You are the handiwork.
You are the ripple.
And the good works?
They are already inside you.
Waiting to be lived.
Waiting to be loved.
Waiting to be remembered.
© Liza | Soul Reflections in Divine Light™
