Who am I …

I am just a ‘clump of clay’ in the Master’s hand which He fashions whichever way He can!

But do not be deceived my value is more than I can comprehend

So valuable … He died to defend!

I am Royal, Precious and Tender

Still broken and faulty – imperfect in splendor!

But there is nothing I would rather be

Than just a ‘clump of clay’ in His Hand!