Ujamaa Christian Poetry

In His Hands

Like a potter working a bit of clay,
He molds me more each and every day.
I am thankful The Lord has never
cast this unfinished lump away.

A soft touch, sublime and so clever,
molds my spirit and soul more than ever
did society's tough desires and demands.
I hope to never break The Potter's tether.

I am slowly smoothed by my Master's hands.
My frailty and mistakes He understands.
Like a thrown pot or vase created
I take the shape The Creator commands.

The Potter fixed what life desecrated
now I am His creation as I have related.
I am no longer a vessel, soul vacated.
I hope when He looks at me He is elated.

Written by Lou Marin


Ujamaa Christian Poetry