Jars of Clay

Jars of Clay
Neatly lined up in rows
Enclosed by a glass window
with a bright red frame.

The intriquite work of a potter
as the soft clay spins round and round
Carefully the clay is being moulded.
Spinning in silence.

It requires plenty of time.
And an enormous amount of patience.

But the most important question...
Who's hands?
Are they yours?
Try again.
You know Your hands will lead into a mess.
Mistakes will be made... time and time again.

But His hands
will lead to perfection.

So I sit here patiently.
As I watch time spin round and round.
In His time, not mine.
In His will, not mine.
In His hands, not mine.
Humbled on my knees
I pray that you may
mould ME into your likeness.

More and more.
Day by day.

- Signed, sealed and delivered...