What do you see when you look at me?
What have I become?
And here is another question for you.
What will I become?
At the start of my birth, I was but a lump of clay.
As a lump of clay I was drawn out from the earth.
How wonderful that your desire was to speak life into me that day.
I was once a vessel that was moulded by your hands alone.
When I heard you… and only you, it was a song to my ears.
You were the only one to touch and shape me back then.
But as time went by, too many hands came upon me.
They twisted me this way and that.
I became crooked and bent.
They each added more handles and spouts.
I became deformed, ashamed,
…and cast away.
And now I am but a lump of clay from the tears I have cried.
I sit sodden and wet, still waiting for you.
I have no shape, and I am dampened by life’s woes.
Deep questions course through my veins.
Who will mould me?
Whose hands can I trust to touch me?
Whose hands really love me?
Will you be my potter again?
I am so thankful that I am pliable once more.
Please wont you wrap your hands around me.
Touch and shape me.
I will try not to resist.
Please help me to not let those other hands touch me.
Protect me and shape me into existence.
Help me to be faithful to your hands only.
For it is your hands… the only hands I must trust.
Once you are done, and I am near complete,
Glaze me and refine me.
And may I be used as you intended me to be.
“The Lord gave another message to Jeremiah. He said, ‘Go down to the potter’s shop, and I will speak to you there.’ So I did as he told me and found the potter working at his wheel. But the jar he was making did not turn out as he had hoped, so he crushed it into a lump of clay again and started over.” – Jeremiah 18:1-4