The Potter’s Wheel

I’m only clay on the potter’s wheel,
Going ’round and ’round ­
Formless… molded with water and clay,
Fashioned from the ground.
With the skill of the Master’s Hand
He has turned, on His wheel,
A vessel to suit His needs,
To enable His will.

I’m the vessel He fashioned, and I listen and am still.
He has tempered me thoroughly; He wants me to do His Will.
His promises are plenty; I love to sing them in song,
There are many who yearn, who’d like to sing along.

So I carry His message of patience and delight,
I carry the letters that speak of hope and sight.
He has a purpose for me, and — yes — for you!
To carry His Word of Truth,
To let His love shine through.

Can you be a vessel that bears the Master’s light?
You’ll travel a narrow road, guided through the night.
You may not have freedom; you may not have riches.
But you’ll carry His wisdom; you’ll carry His wishes.

Can you be…?

Only clay on the potter’s wheel,
Going ’round and ’round,
Molded with water and clay,
Fashioned from the ground.
With the skill of the Master’s Hand
He has turned, on His wheel,
A vessel to suit His needs,
To enable His will.