The Potter's hands won't let me go,
They'll keep shaping me, until I'm perfect,
They'll keep changing me, healing me,
I am His.

So here I am the clay in Your hands,
Knowing You won't leave me here,
Trusting You know what You're doing,
Willing to be broken again,
Just feeling Your loving touch,
Knowing You will heal me again.

Designed by Your hand.
Touched by Your love,
Still crying out for more.

Lord here I am, humbled and broken again,
But I am clay in Your hands,
Knowing you'll restore me again.

Lord here I am, surrendering my pain again,
Molded by Your hands.
Knowing you'll restore me again.

"This is the word that came to Jeremiah from the LORD : "Go down to the potter's house, and there I will give you my message." So I went down to the potter's house, and I saw him working at the wheel. But the pot he was shaping from the clay was marred in his hands; so the potter formed it into another pot, shaping it as seemed best to him.

Then the word of the LORD came to me: "O house of Israel, can I not do with you as this potter does?" declares the LORD. "Like clay in the hand of the potter, so are you in my hand, O house of Israel."

/ Jeremiah 18 : 1 - 6