But now, O Lord, you are our Father;
we are the clay, and you are our potter;
we are all the work of your hand.
I bear the thumb print of my creator I am the work of my creator’s hand Strong to mould me Soft to shape me Delicate to bring out fine detail
God’s mind is bent upon me I am not a casual whim Made to a pattern But no mass produced trinket
I bear the thumb print of my creator The mark of his concentration His pleasure As he saw what good there could be
Today God Make me worthy of my creation.
written by Alec Shuttleworth