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The Potter was silent, the wheel slowly turned,
He had chosen the clay, with great care;
And Fashioned each vessel, in honor supreme,
Not a flaw or a failure, was there.
Each vessel was needed, each had a place,
I the church by the side of the road;
Each met the challenge of labor and toil,
And were eager to help life the load.
No one complained because they were small,
Or cried in the heat of the race;
The cast of the mold, was made by His hand,
The Potter, set each one in place.
He viewed the array, the small and the great,
And smiled as they labored as one;
They trudged thru the mire as tho it was dust,
They hastened, ere settling of sun.
A seller of purple, the robe of a King,
'Twas Dorcas who fashioned the plan;
The decision of Esther, to do or to die -
Could more be accomplished by man?
As Miriam rejoiced with a lilting refrain,
The Red Sea was now calm and serene;
Vanquished the foe and victory won,
Not a trace appeared in the stream.
Copyright owned by the
Wallace and Morehead
families.
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Graphics Courtesy of:
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Created with the CoffeeCup HTML Editor
~ ~ Updated April 13, 2003 ~ ~