So........I open the clay. It is cold and stiff in my hands. I start to knead it and roll it into a ball, the clay begins to stain my palms. I notice my fingerprint. It is perfect in the clay--every detail, every ridge, every swirl. I am reminded that, as God put it, I am fearfully and wonderfully made!
The clay begins to soften, my palms are deeply stained. "It's okay, it washes off", I remind myself. I put the clay in the pasta machine and leisurely turn the handle. The lump of clay moves so slowly as if it enjoys the pressure of the rollers. A perfect sheet of polymer clay. I fold it over, totally enjoying the feel of the smoothness of the clay, and put it between the rollers. Once again, I turn the handle and a perfect sheet of clay emerges--smooth as glass.
I repeat this same action again.......17......18......19.........20 times. It is ready!
I am now holding a perfectly refined piece of polymer clay. Perfectly conditioned and ready to yield to my bidding, ready to be formed by my will, ready to become what I think is best.......................the clay is waiting on me to make it "be".
I begin humming........then I realize the words of the song I am humming.........
"Have Thine own way, Lord, have Thine own way!
You are the Potter, I am the clay.
Mold me and make me, after Thy will,
while I am waiting, perfectly still."
I am humbled.