Yielded Clay

Yielded Clay

Clay doesn’t tell it’s Maker
what it wants to be.
Instead the Potter molds it
as fit He clearly sees.

In the hand of the Potter
the clay is soft to the touch,
and it never complains
that it’s been handled too much.

The vessel doesn’t tell it’s Maker
where it wants to go.
It only serves it’s purpose,
for that is all it knows.

The vessel doesn’t seek it’s glory.
It knows that none it contains.
It represents it’s Master
and glorifies His name.

Sometimes the Potter must break the vessel
and remake it yet again.
But you’ll never see clay fight back
for it simply yields to Him.

So Lord, may I be
In Your hands as the clay.
Break me if You must;
but remake me please, I pray.

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