Hold me gently
in your strong, artisan hands
as you pressure, push, pull,
remake me.
Hold me securely
as the life wheel
spins beneath my frame
in cycles of birth,
death,
rebirth.
Hold me faithfully
as you make
sturdy, solid,
hard-as-diamond
those brittle, broken places
and soft, molten
liquid-as-pure-gold
those places that need to learn
to yield
in graceful vulnerability.
——
Yet, O Lord, you are our Father.
We are the clay, you are the potter;
we are all the work of your hand.
Isaiah 64:8
From Heaven at my Door by Juanita Ryan
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