I offer myself as a mound of putty into the Great Master’s hands
In hopes that He might make of me His grand design.
As He picks up the lump which is me, I say from the mass,
“Watch out for the shards of glass.”
I thought they might keep me safe or enhance the beauty of His work.
I thought they might contribute in some way to the overall appeal, beauty, and passion of the finished piece.
So, do what you will with this putty in waiting, but you might beware of the glass.

How terribly often I pray for His will and wince as His hands go to form it.