I know not why fingers
cling to what was never
meant for holding
frozen I pray
for fluidity, release
into liquescence
we are on the move
chasing vision
pliable in obedience
may God form, reform
these lives not ours
but His
in flux, spinning
my heart stills
in His hand
So I went to the potter’s house,
and sure enough, the potter was there, working away at his wheel.
Whenever the pot the potter was working on turned out badly,
as sometimes happens when you are working with clay,
the potter would simply start over and use the same clay to make another pot
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