As a little girl I longed to feel special, to be the little lady my mother longed for me to be, but that wasn’t always the case. Regardless of how many time she cautioned me to be careful and not pull a snag in my new leggings, I somehow found a way to ruin them almost every time. The neatly pressed dress she had labored to make for me so often ended the day in quite the crumpled mess. Now some years later, I find that I often get in the way of the work that my Heavenly Father is trying to do in my life. He cautions me through His word, giving me clear instructions of how to stay focused on the straight path ahead, yet I so often find myself veering off the main course to find myself frazzled and worn by the end of the day. How thankful I am though to know that He is the potter, I am the clay within His hands, and in His deep love for me He patiently continues the work within me of setting me back on the right track with the break of each new day.

“But now, O LORD, thou art our father; we are the clay, and thou our potter; and we all are the work of thy hand.” Isaiah 64:8

“It is of the LORD’s mercies that we are not consumed, because his compassions fail not. They are new every morning; great is they faithfulness.” Lamentations 3:22-23