The Clay and the Potter: A Journey of Trust and Transformation

When I leaned my head against the iron bars of the train window, dawn was just beginning to break outside. The hot May breeze brushed against my face, but within me, a mountain of restlessness was slowly building. The journey from Payyanur Railway Station to Thrissur was not merely a train journey; it was the beginning of one of the greatest experiences of renewal in my life.

I was entrusted, along with Treesa Chechi, with coordinating “The Clay and the Potter,” a leadership training programme of the Jesus Youth Nurses Ministry. True to its name, it was a journey of allowing ourselves to become clay in the hands of the Potter. Though a large team comprising Fr Jose, Sr Anitha, Betty, Anu, Thomas and Sona stood behind us, every step ahead seemed to be marked by a question.

When I got off the train at Thrissur, I had no idea where to go. But before the smoke from the engine had even cleared, Abel came looking for me. He was struggling even to stand upright because of severe back pain.

“Why did you come despite being in so much pain?” I asked anxiously.

With a smile, he replied, “This is our programme, isn’t it? How could I not come?”

That day, Abel seemed to me like an angel whom God had sent ahead of me.

The days that followed passed like a whirlwind. From there, I went straight to Amala Hospital and then, along with Sr Anitha, travelled through the winding hill roads of Idukki and Adimali to hospitals in Kattappana.

But the trials did not end there. I can never forget that KSRTC journey from Adimali to Changanassery. Exhausted from the journey, I vomited inside the bus, leaving my clothes completely soiled. In an unfamiliar place, I had no idea how I could continue my journey in such a state. I was completely broken. It was at that moment, with tears filling my eyes, that a man named Vijayan Chettan came into my life. A complete stranger, he embraced me like his own daughter, helped me find a place to freshen up and even bought me food. That day, I experienced how God’s care can take human form.

From there, I travelled straight to Thiruvananthapuram. Aldrin accompanied me that night, and by around 10 p.m., we reached Nikitha’s home. My body was completely exhausted. Yet, the next morning, we were back visiting campuses. Late that night, I boarded another vehicle. When I reached Ottapalam at 3:30 a.m. on May 19, Aji Chettan and his wife were waiting for me.

Later, I travelled to Palakkad with Blessman. When we reached Sanjo College, the students had gone for their psychiatric posting. Although we could not meet them, we stood in the deserted campus and prayed for them and for the programme. From there, we travelled to Kannur. At Amala Bhavan, in the presence of Sr Marina, we held the hands of the mothers there and requested their prayers for the programme.

After visiting Pariyaram, BM Hospital, MIMS and Dhanalakshmi, and receiving the blessing of Bindu Aunty, I finally reached home around noon on May 20. I was completely silent.

But the real test was only about to begin.

When we started inviting people for the programme, the responses were deeply discouraging.

“No, I won’t be able to come…”

Those were the words we kept hearing. Somewhere, something seemed to be going wrong. As fear and anxiety began to overwhelm me, I made a decision: This is not my work; this is God’s work.

From June 1 onwards, I spent ten days in mission and prayer. It became a mission rooted entirely in prayer.

June 11—the day before the programme.

I arrived at Thrissur Railway Station late at night from Thiruvananthapuram, carrying pro-life materials for the programme. The air-conditioned waiting areas were packed. So, I spread a bedsheet on the cement floor of the railway station and lay down to sleep. Nearby were some Bengali women whom I had never seen before. It was the first time in my life that I had experienced something like this.

As I closed my eyes, there was only one prayer in my heart:

“Jesus, this programme belongs to You. Please let it happen beautifully.”

The morning of June 12 dawned brightly.

Rijo Chettan and Praveen Chettan arrived. Asha, Sona, the sisters and the children came one by one. We welcomed each moment by decorating the hall and offering prayers of intercession.

During the time of Eucharistic Adoration, all the tears I had held within me began to flow. When Sona said that she was going to the convent, I cried like a little child. It was not because I was sad, but because I was overwhelmed with joy. The thought that she might no longer be with us in the same way touched me deeply.

Over the following days, we witnessed a powerful work of the Holy Spirit. The sessions and action songs touched the hearts of each of the children and sank deeply into them.

After the programme, while we were packing up the materials, we received unexpected news: Rose had accidentally left her bag behind at the railway station and it had been taken away by someone else. I had to travel to Kottayam to return it to her.

Then I realised that Jesus was once again placing before me, in the form of a lost bag, the journey to Kottayam that I had earlier set aside.

When Treesa Chechi and I went to the POC, we received prayer and a message from Br Thomas Paul. On the 13th, we reached Kottayam and handed the bag back to Rose. We spent some time talking and took a few pictures together.

Later, with the help of an aunt in Kottayam, we met the principal and received a date for another one-day programme. With the support of Asha and Joseph Chettan, that programme too was completed successfully by God’s grace.

Looking back, I now realise that I was never alone on any of those journeys.

Just as a potter kneads the clay, shapes it and places it in the fire to transform it into a useful vessel, God was using every obstacle and every unexpected turn in my journey to mould me into a vessel fit for His purposes.

Today, I look back and smile, knowing that the Potter was at work all along.

Bismi Siby
Kerala Nurses Team