The Potters Wheel
By joyismine
The Potters Wheel Marred, in the hands of the potter lay The dull ungainly lump of clay; Failure evident everywhere; Self efforts ending in despair. But the potter begins with vision clear To fashion a vessel ever more dear; As He kneads and turns, shapes and molds, Keeping it gently under His control; The vessel evolves full of grace, But still no beauty on its face As it spins on the wheel and takes on form Through His loving touch is pressure born. When the Master Potter can look with pride, And with the form be satisfied, He begins His work with color and glaze To finish each vessel in unique ways. With individual beauty and appeal Each comes forth from the Master's wheel: With a special touch He leaves His mark, Perfected in love from the Father's heart. Conformed to the image of Jesus the Son Presented faultless before His throne The Potter looks and is satisfied With His ownly begotten and perfected bride. Joyce GuyEach of us is different, yet pleasing to Him when we submit that He may conform us to His image. Written December 18th, 2001 © on Dec 18 2001 12:57 AM PST 0 • 13
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"The Potters Wheel..."