Here in God's cauldron the pain is real
In this furnace I am undone
Disintegrated by the ordeal
I look for an out but there’s none
Here on the holy potter’s wheel
I understand I am but clay
Wedged by His hands my cruft to reveal
Impurities taken away
The master designer, the artist supreme
Knows what it takes to transform a heart
For this child of dust to become what God deems
He puts together what He takes apart
Until I am His work of art
Here on God’s anvil I am being shaped
But first I must be deformed
From His holy hammer there is no escape
Being Forged until I am conformed
Here in the sculptor’s atelier
I’m Enduring the chisels blows
What doesn’t conform will be chipped away
Till the image he conceived is exposed
The master designer, the artist supreme
Know what it takes to transform a heart
For this child of dust to become what God deems
It must be first be broken apart
Until I am His work of art
July 14, 2025
Anthony Foster