From an Imperfect Vessel

From an Imperfect Vessel

When I was a child, I made a clay bowl for my Mother. I made it at school and with the equipment there, it was painted, fired, and finished. If not beautiful, it was usable.
Mom used that bowl the rest of her life-but only on special occasions. When the family got together, she would bring out that lopsided bowl and give it a place of honor on our table. As I grew older, I was embarrassed by its imperfections. I wished that I had had the talent to make a perfect bowl for my Mom, but it didn’t matter to her-because she loved me. And because she loved me, she treasured my offering, treating it with love.

Perhaps that is the way God sees me—as an imperfect vessel, but willing to be molded by Him into what He intends for me. He sees the flaws in me—the lopsided imperfection, but He knows that I’m still maturing and He, the Master Potter is not yet finished with my life.

God accepts the offering I lift up to Him because He knows my heart. He listens to an imperfect voice sing His praises, my elementary prayers, my limited understand of His Holy Word because, He says, like my Mom did—“My daughter gave this to me…”

Lord, I’m just a lump of clay-
Imperfect and incomplete.
With all the super Christians,
Lord, I can’t compete.

Lord, I’m just a piece of earth
Made into an imperfect vessel.
There are things inside my heart and mind
With which I daily wrestle.

Lord, I’m just a lump of clay
Waiting to see what you will do,
To take this lump of clay
And make it more like you!

Thena Smih

I wasn't sure either. It's not really a big deal, though. Maybe it could be in poems because it's kind of like putting in the thoughts that led to the poem.