O lump of clay that I am
Yielding myself to You
Place me upon Your wheel
To do what You want to do.
Turn the wheel and mold me
Over and over again
What better place can I be
Than in my Potter’s hand?
O Potter, I look to You
To keep me on the wheel
Pressing me and shaping me
Into Your perfect will.
O Potter, keep the wheel turning
Perfecting me as You plan
In thanksgiving I say to You
“Look! I’m in the Potter’s hand.