Wayward wore upon my sleeve,
Unkempt was my sole bearing.
Flaws so many they wore as a stain,
A ruined life of sin filled living.
Many eyes would take me in,
then discard my reckless estate.
Eyes bearing careless judgement,
Accepting my downtrodden fate.
To the world I was simply a failure,
hopeless was my name.
But for One they called The Potter,
who saw more then ruined clay.
He picked me up from the ground so barren,
as though my brokeness did not matter.
Took me to a place of sweet assurance,
began to work on this clay so tattered.
With gentle hands of patience unerring,
He fashioned away my stains of sinful living.
A vessel discarded but for The Master Potter,
who looked and saw something worth keeping.
I read a story this morning that reminded me of how precious our Lord is, that He would look upon us and see something worth keeping, something worth loving…I am humbled and my praise will never be enough.