I, But Clay: A Poem

Potter wheel

I feel as wet clay

Spinning in the Hands of the  Master

Pressed down, He pulls me up again

Repositioning my slanted axis

Making new my hallowed soul

Now hollow yet brimming with hope

The former curves and grooves of beauty

Smoothed away by His watery touch

And yet again I find myself

Spinning, spinning spinning

He cuts away that which once brought praise

But promises it is not of waste

It served its purpose and the evidence is shown

Within the new form that flows between His loving fingers

It is the Warmth of His scared hands that keep me

Hold me…securely in the center of His perfect will

Born again on His Potter’s wheel

Even as my tears blend within the fountain of Living Water He washes over me

I, uncertain of what will become of me

And yet again I rise

Again I will be stretched

My purpose fixed for a new design

For I am but clay and He is the Potter

I yield and rest to the workings of His Hands

(Jeremiah 18:1-5 )

The Potter and the Clay

18 The word which came to Jeremiah from the Lord, saying: “Arise and go down to the potter’s house, and there I will cause you to hear My words.”Then I went down to the potter’s house, and there he was, making something at the wheel. And the vessel that he made of clay was marred in the hand of the potter; so he made it again into another vessel, as it seemed good to the potter to make.Then the word of the Lord came to me, saying: “O house of Israel, can I not do with you as this potter?” says the Lord. “Look, as the clay is in the potter’s hand, so are you in My hand, O house of Israel!

*Scripture from Biblehub

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