In His Hands

O Father, I want to be as pliable as a lump of clay in Your hands and as silent. By that I mean I don’t want to question Your design of me. I acknowledge that You have every right to make me--and to use me--however You wish.

Yet, as You know, Father, I tend to look at other “vessels” You have made and to want to be like them. And, as You also know, I tend to think my many flaws make me of little use to You. Forgive me for demeaning your design of me. You knew exactly what You were doing when You created me. Forgive me for being unwilling to believe You want to use me.

Father, I acknowledge that I am the work of Your hands and that You can and will use me for Your purposes—whether in common or uncommon ways, whether in special service or lowly service. The choice is Yours. I'm content with whatever You choose. I'm excited to see what You will do in me and with me and through me.

Behold as the clay is in the potter's hand, so are you in Mine (Jeremiah 18:6).