Saturday, June 6, 2009


Soft as clay in the Master's Hands...

O LORD JESUS, soft as clay in the Master's Hands, I would be

Willing clay... workable, compliant...

not fighting against THEE+

when I don't like the changes.

My lump of brittle dryness,

cracking, and falling in pieces...

not able to be used,

except for dustpan debris...

until the moisture of Thy Nearness+

is added unto me.

The stiffness and hardness of my clay heart then

... and only then...

is worked,

kneaded thoroughly by the Potter of all flesh.

until I have reached that perfect state:

being totally malleable in Thy+ Hands.

Work me, make me supple under Thy+ Touch

until I don't fight THEE+ any more.

Form me, shape me,

into a vessel meet for Thy+ Use

... for Thy+ Divine Purpose...

on this battlefield of life.

And, help me not to harden

until the change has come.

My ears crave to hear this

at the setting of my sun:

"Enter thou into the joy of

Thy LORD+,

My+ good and faithful servant...

well done!"

+ + +

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