The Potter’s Wheel

I’m wrestling with Jesus
and He’s wrestling with me,

He will not let me go,
until I’m complete.

I’m crying out loud
He’s silent and still

I’m wrestling with Jesus
over God’s will

I’m begging and pleading
I’m tired and weak

I’m looking for freedom
He’s searching for me

I tell him “I’m broken”, “bless me, I wail”
He shows me his hands, they’re tender, I’m frail.

I’m needing his blessing
a word from his heart

Assurance, some faith,
a light in the dark

I’m turning and twisting, wrestling with God
confused and afraid, as he presses and prods

I want to move on, I’m desperate- but can’t
failing and falling, unable to stand

I hear a voice in silence, “My child, be still,
You’re becoming a vessel, My Father can fill”

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