Shape our lives upon your anvil
With your Holy Word, Lord form our minds
Shield our hearts from the roaring devil
Mold our souls to the plan you have designed
We are clay in the Holy Potter’s hands
So what we become is what He will reveal
We become whatever He has planned
Turning ever turning on His wheel
We are precious metal in your fire
In your crucible, there we are purified
All the dross removed along with vain desires
You burn away our boasts and foolish pride
Bridge
We are destined for this before creation
For those God foreknew this surely comes to pass
To be conformed to the image of the beloved Son
This is our purpose from our first day to the last.
We are clay in the Holy Potter’s hands
So what we become is what He will reveal
We become - whatever He has planned
Turning ever turning on the wheel…
Turning ever turning on the wheel…
Romans 8:29
April 2, 2025
Anthony Foster