The Lord is my master potter, I am the clay,
safe in her hands.
She kneads this amorphous lump, preparing me
for transformation into her image.
She spins her wheel, pressing downward and inward
forming my exterior and then opens me up to pour
in her Spirit.
Even though there are times
my creation appears uncertain,
I have no fear,
for you are perfectly skilled;
your hands
are gentle and supportive.
You prepare me for the kiln,
for the fire that will strengthen me, set me as Yours.
You glaze me
with a wondrous, heavenly shine.
Thank you for all this,
so that I may serve you until I am dust.
I remain always in your presence,
ready for you use.
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