You Are The Potter . . . I'm The Clay

My sweet dear Heavenly Father
Mold me in your hand
Break me . . . Shape me and make me
Yes help me Lord to stand

Oh I feel your hands upon me
I know you are in charge
Lord stretch my eyes a little wider
Because THE VISION it is so large

Lord how can I warn your people
Lord how can I make them see
Lord how can I prepare your children
So they my Lord can be set free

Lord you are the Master Potter
Please mold me in your hand
I'm only just a piece of clay
Just stretch me like a band

Pull me in the direction
That you Lord will have me to go
Stir up your gifts within me
So your people I'll be able to show

Stretch my mouth to proclaim YOUR WORD
Before it's all too late
Please mold me into your image
While in your presence I humbly await