The more I try to renew my mind,
the more the devil tries to remind
me of my past, of who I was;
last week, last month, last year and last decade;
But God says that I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
So I took the spade out of my thoughts,
the devil put there for me to bury myself;
crawled on up out of that hole of self pity,
shimmied all the dirt off my shoulders
caked up so much that it had me; hunched over and Red Rovered myself right on back to my Father's Potter's Wheel;
Locked God's word in my heart so the devil couldn't steal-
what he tries to kill and destroy out of my soul.
Climbed on that Potter's Wheel;
a strange and awful looking mold
of an earthen vessel;
I nestled myself at the feet of my God
as He begins to work His hands
into the awkwardness of my clay
spinning and shaping and molding
me all which-way;
