Encounter with the Master
Potter
Have you ever felt like your world was collapsing, but you were able to put on such a good act that no one could see it? That's what was happening to me in early 1948.
Yes, in 1948, to all my friends the world looked bright indeed for Dale Evans. Only weeks earlier I had added the name Rogers to my name after several years of working with Roy Rogers on the set of western movies. The wedding took place during a blinding snowstorm in Oklahoma on New Year's Eve 1947, and despite the weather the future never seemed brighter. What I didn't know was that the Master Potter was about to begin shaping my life in very painful ways.
Roy Rogers was the brightest star on the western horizon. Already number one in the box office because of his starring roles in dozens of westerns, Roy was in huge demand for personal appearances. Instead of being his leading lady only in westerns, I had achieved what many women dreamed of: I had become his wife. I had also fulfilled another longstanding dream...
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a family. Even as a little girl I had wanted a large family. Although my son Tom from my first marriage had turned into a handsome and successful twenty-year-old, the dream of having a large family had never died. Marrying Roy brought instant family, with his children, Cheryl, Linda, and Dusty (Roy Jr.). (Roy was a widower whose wife, Arlene, died from an embolism following the birth of Dusty.)
The Perfect Life?
Perfect life, right? It should have been, but my world inside was actually collapsing. My emotional burdens were clearly stronger than my inner support.
You see, when I married Roy I lost a major part of my self-identity. The death of his wife had left him with three young children, and I was determined to care for them. In addition, the movie studio decided marriage to Roy meant I could no longer star with him in his movies. Republic Studio had informed me that the children who saw the movies would not believe what they were seeing if Roy and his leading lady were husband and wife in the real world. It would remove the romantic mystique.
I was dumbfounded and struggled with the disintegration of my film career even while I was excited about the new family under my care. From being a movie star, I had suddenly become a nobody, as far as the public was concerned — at least, that's how I perceived it.
That family of three children also provided additional stress. I was having a difficult time being a housewife and a stepmother after having worked for twenty years.
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Cheryl was seven, Linda was five, and Dusty only sixteen months when we were married, and they were a handful. Roy worked long hours, leaving me in charge in the most difficult of roles: stepmother.
Cheryl and Linda clearly resented my taking their mother's place and, as children will do, made sure I knew it. One day, for example, I was arranging the furniture in the living room when Linda Lou stopped me in my tracks with, "That isn't your furniture. It's my mommy's."
I was alone and on the defensive — edgy and frightened at what else I might experience. I knew I needed more than I had in reserve. What I did not know was that God, the Master Potter, was at work preparing to put me on His Potter's wheel again, but this time I would stick because I was ready to become clay in His wonderful, life-shaping hands.
I had made the decision to accept the Lord as my Savior when I was ten. An itinerant evangelist had come to town and held revival meetings in our church. Again I heard the old, old story of Jesus and His love. This time, however, it was presented in such a dramatic and straightforward way that it really shook my ten-year-old world.
The evangelist opened the gates of hell and gave me a good look at what that future was like. I became so thoroughly frightened at the prospect of spending eternity in such a miserable and terrifying place that I reached out desperately for the hand of the Savior. I reached out in fear, but I was not really ready to hand over control of my life to Him.
I was like a child who cannot swim, but who wants to learn all by herself in the ocean.
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The child asks her father, an experienced swimmer, to stand on the shore in case the waves overpower her. A cry for help would energize the father so he could jump in and save his child.
I was like that child — I wanted to do my own thing, to become a big success in entertainment. But I also wanted an insurance policy — God the Father standing by, ready to save me if the waves grew too threatening. So when I walked down the aisle of the church and stretched out my hand to Jesus, it was no soul-shaking experience; it was only a matter of laying hold of what I had been told was eternal security. When I was baptized a few weeks later, I felt I had really made it. God would be there when I needed Him, since I had "paid the entrance fees" into His kingdom, the church.
That experience did not, however, stop me from becoming a teenage rebel. I rebelled against my parents' strict Baptist ways, for I knew that they did not approve of my goal of becoming a truly successful entertainer.
Yet, like many teenagers, when I rebelled against my parents, I also rebelled against the Lord. After all, their opposition to my career plans was rooted in the Baptist Church's teaching on what Christians should or should not do with their lives. And singing and dancing on the stage definitely fit the "should not do" category of vocational goals.
My elopement at age fourteen put the exclamation mark on my rebellion. That marriage ended in disaster sixteen months later, when my husband went home to his parents and never returned. When the waves of despair rolled in, I turned to the church and the Bible.
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As a teenager, I knew I needed more strength than I had to care for our baby son, Tom. I read the Bible through, clinging to it for courage. The Psalms provided a lot of comfort as I grieved over the loss of the young man I still loved, and I sought help for the son now alone in my arms.
Desperation Promises
Several years later when my son Tom appeared to have polio, the waves again threatened to overwhelm me. I turned to God in desperation and promised to live for Him. When Tom's diagnosis turned up negative, I went on with my career, quickly forgetting that promise.
As I struggled for economic survival and up the ladder of success, whenever I was able to have Tom with me I would attend church. After all, I did want him to know the God of my family and experience the love of Jesus. Tom would certainly need the Father on the shore as well. But my attending church did not signify willingness to let the Master Potter shape my life, for I was convinced His plans did not coincide with my plans — and I was determined to carry out my plans.
One of the reasons I was unwilling to even seriously consider letting the Master Potter shape me was a misconception about what God had in mind for me. Shortly after my divorce, I went to business school in Memphis and became acquainted with one of the most beautiful girls I have ever seen. When she became a missionary, I thought, "A missionary? As beautiful as she is, and she is going to Africa? How could she do that?" And I said to myself, "I have to do my thing independently. I am going to make a mark."
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Not Now, Lord
I would go to church and hear the preacher say, "If you have talent, it belongs to the Lord." And I would say, "Now, Lord, You don't understand. When I have made it, and when I am independent materially, I will give You my life. But in the meantime I have to work. And, Lord, please look away when I do things that are a little questionable." That kind of attitude had kept me from ever submitting to the Master Potter, but it also contributed to my inner stress.
Tom also contributed to my inner stress. He was still the light of my life, and I was delighted that he had become engaged to a beautiful young Christian woman, Barbara, whom he had dated for several years. But then he announced that instead of pursuing the musical career I had planned for him in symphony work, he had decided to become a teacher of music so he could help children to a career — and to God. For a mother who planned too much and sometimes not wisely, that was a stunning blow. I did not realize that Tom was merely submitting to the shaping of the Master Potter.
Previously when I experienced these crises, I would run to God in my great distress. I would temporarily put myself under His care. But I'm sure the Father must have wondered when I, Dale Evans Rogers, would become willing to genuinely submit myself to the shaping of the Master Potter. If you have had a similar experience, you'll know He doesn't give up easily.
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The Turning Point
My turning point came after that encounter with Linda Lou, when she reprimanded me for moving her "mommy's furniture." Even though I answered her gently, I knew I needed help. So I was ready when Tom walked in and suggested I start taking the children to Sunday school and church — that God could help me do what I was unable to do for myself.
I thought it over carefully. The next Sunday I attended the evening service with Tom. Despite his protests to the contrary, I will always believe he conspired with Dr. Jack MacArthur on the sermon for that evening: "The House That Is Built on the Rock."
The theme did not mean much to me until Dr. MacArthur explained that any house built on the rock of faith in Jesus Christ can and will survive anything that comes up against it — illness, death, poverty, suspicion, greed, selfishness, deceit, lies. I felt like he was throwing rocks at me, and they were hitting me where it hurt. I twisted and dodged and squirmed under the barrage, but there was no escaping it. I sat there looking into my heart and hearing it shout, "Guilty, guilty, guilty!"
When Dr. MacArthur finished his message and invited us to accept Christ as Savior, the invitation had my name on it, and I knew it. I knew I should step forward, but I kept fighting the strong urge.
Tom read the story in my eyes. He said gently, "Why don't you go? Why not make it right with the Lord now? Give Him your life, and let Him give you the peace I've watched you struggling for, for so long."
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The Battle Was On
I responded defensively, "Tom, I am a Christian. I've been a Christian since I was ten years old. Isn't that enough?"
"No," said Tom bluntly. "You don't really know Christ. I've watched you reading all those 'Peace of Mind' books, and all that Eastern philosophy stuff, and it hasn't helped you one bit. If you really knew Him, all you would need would be your Bible and your faith in Him. You won't find peace until you understand that."
I wanted to go down that aisle, but I just didn't have the courage. I knew all too well what was involved, that the Master Potter would then want to shape every area of my life. I had put Him off from age ten till thirty-five, and that pattern of living by my own wisdom was deeply ingrained in me.
On top of that, voices inside were whispering, "All these people will know you're a no-good sinner if you do that. They'll talk about it, and it will be all over Hollywood in twenty-four hours...Don't rush into this thing; think it over for a week or so." I said to Tom, "Give me until next Sunday; I want to think." Tom's eyes filled with tears and pity. He turned away without a word.
Roy was away on a trip, so he couldn't help me. I felt miserable and alone as I drove home. I ran upstairs to my bedroom when I got home, dropped to my knees beside the bed, and cried as I had never cried in all my life. The dam broke, and it all poured out in a long, broken, stammering confession.
When I had cried myself out, I started to pray quietly in a spirit of repentance. My whole past stood up before my eyes, revealing all the lost years like an unrolling carpet. I shuddered at what I saw—sin, sin, sin—all because I had refused to know and follow Christ.
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I had held God like an ace up my sleeve against the possibility of future punishment. Now I was ready to let Him enter into the tabernacle of my heart, the area that had been locked to Him. I said "I am opening it all to You. I want You to fill me with Your Spirit, to wash me clean with the blood that You shed for that purpose. Then I want You to use me the rest of my life — whatever it takes."
I cried out in surrender, "God, Lord God, forgive me! Just let me live until next Sunday, and I'll go down that aisle and make a public confession."
He let me live. When the invitation was given the next Sunday morning I bounced out of my pew and fairly flew down the aisle, I grasped Dr. MacArthur's hand and was ushered into a small prayer room for prayer and consultation with a counselor. I repeated my confession, asking God to create a clean heart and a right spirit in me, to break me if He had to but—please!—to take my life and use it for His glory. I was ready to be on the Master Potter's wheel.
An indescribable peace washed over my heart, washed me clean by virtue of the blood He had shed for me on Calvary, and I became a totally new creature. This time I had made the commitment that Jesus Christ could be the Lord of my life—and that commitment helped me to face all the shaping the Master Potter had planned for me for the rest of my life. My pride had been broken, my intense drive to succeed in life set aside for His plans, and I was ready to heel to the Master.
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A New Person
I remember when I came home from church that day — I was flying low. I mean, it was wonderful. The grass was truly greener, the sky bluer, flowers prettier, people kinder. I mean, everything was changed.
Roy noticed it and asked, "What's happened?"
I said, "I have done the most wonderful thing I have ever done in my life. I've given my life to Jesus Christ, to follow Him."
Roy's response revealed he was not yet ready for an encounter with the Master Potter, but God had His eye on Roy as well! When I surrendered to God, He began to fulfill the promise Paul made to the Philippian jailer, "Believe in the Lord Jesus, and you will be saved — you and your household" (Acts 16:31 NIV). I did not know that promise at the time, nor did I realize my action would result in many more than our "household" coming to know Jesus as Savior. God's reward for full commitment to the Master Potter is so much greater than we can even imagine when we take that step.
Yet what does it mean to be placed on the Master Potter's wheel? And why should we be concerned about being shaped by the Master Potter?
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Reflecting on the Shaping
1. What has been your biggest objection to letting the Master Potter take over shaping your life?
2. What influenced your decision to turn over your life to the Master Potter for His shaping?
3. How would you describe your encounter with the Master Potter?
4. What was the initial impact on your will and emotions as you let the Master Potter take control?
5. If you feel you have never made Jesus Christ, the Master Potter, Lord of your life, what is keeping you from doing it now?
