A treasure of my Father's own design
Lay shattered on the floor at His feetbroken pottery
It seemed it would be impossible
To mend this broken piece
The original handiwork was rare
It was priceless to be exact
Yet there it lay in pieces
On the floor at my Father's feet

I saw the tears in my Father's eyes
as He gazed on His treasure so rare
He knelt down and began to rearrange
Each piece with the utmost care
As each teardrop fell on a broken piece
Rough edges were washed away asPotter and potter's wheel
Lovingly He labored through the night
His priceless, broken treasure to restore

I saw that at last every piece
Had found its proper place
As guided by my Fathers hands
And His amazing grace
Then He smiled and I heard Him laugh out loud
At the vessel He held in His hands
"You're so much more than a treasure,
You see, you're a Masterpiece, My Child!"

As I felt His arms wrap about me
Securing me close to Himself
I understood that my broken mess
Had been healed by His own blood
As I lifted my face, I smiled at Him
And saw that He was smiling back at me,
And I knew right then what I was worth, for
My Father's Masterpiece is ME!
Author Unknown  (Potter's Hands picture by Christopher Nick)

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