The Potters Hand

So often we want to do everything by ourselves forgetting that it is God who is in charge of our lives. It is He who formed us. It is He who called us. It is He who has a work for us to do. We need to hear what He is saying. “Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not unto your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge Him and He will direct your paths. Proverbs 3:5

I am attaching a poem written by Gary Yendall, with his permission.

The Potter’s Hands

I call out to you ‘Lord’

You alone are my God

My Savior

When I walk through the valley of

Broken dreams and promises.

When my heart is shattered,

And I can’t go on.

My eyes are dry, the tears have all

Been wrung out.

The love I had is gone.

Pain comes to fill its place.

I am, but a shell of who I was.

Waiting, waiting for the desert

To devour me.

Yet!

My wee small voice

Calls out to You.

In my weakness.

In my hour of need.

You pick me up.

And place this shattered vessel,

On Your potter’s wheel.

Though You are gentle.

I feel the strength.

You gather all the pieces,

And grind them into dust.

Your tears will add the moisture,

As slowly Your work begins.

Round and round I go

I am in the potter’s hands.

He shapes me and molds me

I do whatever He commands

I am on the potter’s wheel,

And in my Masters hands/

I feel His love,

Flowing through my bones.

Strong hands massage my heart.

My belly is rippled.

As wave after wave

Of living water, fills me with life.

From the dust of the earth

He picks me up

And makes me stand.

Almost perfect

In my Masters hands

Almost finished

I heard Him say

As He held me up

And brought me close

He breathed life into me

And let me go

I’m a new creation

I was born again

Created and molded

By my Masters hand