1 As clay within the potter’s hand,
Responsive to his will,
So let us be, and in us, Lord,
Thy purposes fulfill;
Made willing in Thy day of power,
Each restless spirit still.
2 Lord, make this place Thy potter’s house,
Where Thou shalt have Thy way,
To mold and fashion as Thou wilt,
Upon Thy wheel today;
Cleansing from sin’s impurity,
Make pliant as the clay.
3 Thou hast a purpose in each life,
Thou hast Thine own great plan;
Thou seest possibilities,
Unseen by us in man;
And where man says, "Impossible,"
Thy love has said, "I can."
4 Dear Lord, too oft we’ve hindered Thee
And would not passive lie,
And let Thee work Thy work in us,
Thy name to glorify;
Now with desire "Thy will be done,"
Our longing spirits cry.
Source: The Cyber Hymnal #10051