I know I am nothing but a lump of clay,
That will return to dust one day…
And yet I’m being molded in The Potter’s hand
For a purpose and a passion I might not fully understand.
Fearfully and wonderfully made,
In his image He did create;
A work of art.
A masterpiece with a heart.
Who am I to say ‘what are you making of me’?
We do not get to choose who we want to be.
Only what we allow inside the mold,
For in effect we will become the very thing
We choose to hold.
A vessel of honor is not so much about the vessel
And all about its content.
Why am I painting my exteriors
and trying so hard to pretend?
Unless I’m full of You I’m hollow!
Oh, Lord please teach me how to follow.
And how to be still,
How to surrender to Your will.
Please burn away every false desire,
As you sanctify me with Your fire.
Fill me up until there’s nothing left of me,
Complete the good work for Your glory!
You are the Potter,
I am the clay,
Lord have your way!
But now, O LORD, you are our father; we are the clay, and you our potter; and we all are the work of your hand.
– Isaiah 64:8