spirit of God descend upon my heart/ wean it from earth, through all its pulses move/ stoop to my weakness, mighty as Thou art/ and make me love Thee as i ought to love.
sometimes it takes years to see the vessel take shape, and then one day you look and the jar sits there, quite unexpectedly freshly formed. not fully formed, but bearing the marks of the potter's hand.
No comments:
Post a Comment