Photo Cred: (1) | Updated: 8/30/2020
Wrote this last night in about an hour and decided to post it here on the blog. It’s a poem inspired by a concept in Romans chapter 9.
This is the potter and the clay.
The latter was molded in a day,
While the former made the day.
This is our life I hope to portray.
The potter knows what the clay will become.
Maybe one day a daughter or one day a son.
Could be a father or even someone’s mom.
The potter knows the clay and then some.
The potter molds the clay.
He molds all of it everyday.
The clay has no actual say,
Yet the potter listens anyway.
The potter molds the clay with meaning,
But the clay is dirty and needs cleaning.
The potter finds his creation appealing,
Yet the clay resists for the time being.
The potter adores the clay.
The clay wants to fly away,
But the potter wants it to stay.
The potter is patient with the clay.
The potter is content.
He loves to invent.
Creating with intent.
It was quite the event.
The potter knows all of the clay,
Even that it would choose decay.
The potter created black and white to guide our way,
While the clay pretends that everything is a moral grey.
The potter has the right to make vessels of honor.
The potter has the right to make vessels of dishonor.
The molded always seems to question the molder,
But the clay should be grateful that it gets to be older.
If only we knew our constant need to pray,
Instead we would rather be sin’s daily prey.
Hopefully we learn it’s okay to not be okay.
This is the story of the potter and the clay.
With that, Godspeed and Jesus bless.