I'm the Clay in His hand; He fashions and He molds me According to His plan. My life is cracked and shattered By guilt and sin and shame; He comes into my life, Bringing hope and peace again. He mends my broken spirit, And heals my wounded heart; He soothes and brings me comfort, And He bids the enemy depart. Patiently He works on me To fit His perfect will; He helps me to become A lighthouse on the hill. He surely couldn't fashion A lump not in His hand; Surrender now to Him And trust His perfect plan. He'll help you grow in grace, In strength and fortitude; He'll mold you and He'll make you After His similitude. A vessel unto honor To make known to all His Glory, To share with all the people The pure and blessed story. You'd be amongst the wise-- A Clay shining as the firmament Leading others upward To the Potter's home in heav'n. Copyrighted © Lydia Haga 2004 |