by Steve Bell

I am a broken jar of clay
recovered by His holy hand
from the dumpster in the alley
crushed into powder,
mixed with living water
and returned 
to His pottery wheel
to begin life anew 
as wet clay.
Still myself
yet not at all the same,
spinning out of control
helpless in His gentle hands
fired to perfection
glazed with grace,
ready to hold:

food for the hungry
     water for the thirsty
           medicine for the sick
                 coins for the poor.

Yes, I am made of clay
still me, yet very different.
The Potter looks me over
and I know I am
Loved
Beautiful
Wanted
Needed
and filled to overflowing
with Him.

---

Steve Bell is a Christian poet who lives in Colorado with his wife Gina.  He writes poetry for both children and adults and works part-time in youth development for the YMCA.

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