The Potter’s Clay 

by Deborah Smith Plemmons 

I was but a lump of shapeless clay,

Until I was touched by the Potter one day.

With His hands, He started molding me

Into what He would have me to be.
I did not resist His gentle touch,

Though I thought I’d not amount to much.

He smoothed rough edges, getting rid of self.

I really didn’t want to sit on a shelf.
He fashioned me after His own image.

I remained pliable to avoid any damage.

Thank you, God, for not giving up on me.

I pray I’ll be all you want me to be.
God is the Potter and I am the clay.

He molded me into what I am today.

I feel now I’m a vessel fit for His use;

A vessel of honor to share His truths.


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