Behold, as the clay is in the Potter’s hand,
so are you in My hand. Jer.18:6
Abba Father, like the potter,
You went to the swamp to find me
– clay covered in dirt and stones.
Yet with such love and tenderness,
You formed me into something beautiful.
You took out every stone.
It hurt, and I wanted to quit,
but You never let go of me.
As I walked closely with You,
I became a vessel of honour, fit for Your use.
This is where I want to remain: in Your hands.
For You are not done with me yet.
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