The Potter and the Clay

Can the clay say to the potter,

I want to be a sword when the potter needs a scythe

Can the clay say to the potter,

I want to be a glass when the potter needs a jar

All the clay can say is make mold me into a vessel fit to be used

He throws me into the fire

It Burns as sin melts away

Once I dry in the sun

he fills me to overflowing with living water

destined to quench the thirst of dry and dusty souls

As time goes by my clay grows brittle and starts to crack
The potter picks me up and throws me into the fire to be used once again

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