I walked down to the Potter’s House one fine sunny day to find the Potter hard at work with a stubborn lump of clay. He poked and prodded, pressed and pounded then sighing in dismay considered tossing that lump away.
But now instead of a darkened frown His face lit up as He cast it down And worked to form and bend it to the new thing He intended. Though starting with hope of a chalice cup A sturdy chamber *** rose up.
A brand new lump, when He was done was unwrapped, moistened, thrown and spun. It yielded gladly in His hands. To a chalice on the table stand. The chamber *** began to say, “But why have you made ME this way?”
“Why am I for common use instead of a chalice for wine or juice?”
But the Potter said frankly, in reply “It is not yours to question why. Don’t I have the right to make What I wish? It’s no mistake. I used your temperament to find your exact calling – for your sake.”
“I did not cast you in the heap or throw you out into the street. You still have found a useful place and in this, I have shown you grace. Though a chamber *** you be, Be the best chamber ***, for me.”