The Potter’s Touch

The potter worked at his task
With patience, love and skill.
A vessel, marred and broken,
He altered again to his will.
It was blackened, bent and old
But with traces of beauty left,
So he worked, this mender of pottery,
To restore the charm bereft,
Till at last it stood transformed
And he viewed it with tender eyes,
The work of his hands and love,
This potter, patient and wise.

I know a Mender of broken hearts,
And of lives that are all undone;
He takes them all, as they come to Him
And He loves them, every one.
With patience, love and skill
That surpasses the knowledge of men,
This Master Potter gathers the lost
And restores to His image again.
O Lover of folk with broken lives,
O wonderful Potter Divine,
I bring my soul for Thy healing touch;
In me, let Thy beauty shine.

-from Springs in the Valley, March 28 selection, by Mrs. Charles E. Cowman