You assure me
As your potter hands keep moulding me
Of who I will one day be,
But I see the kiln burning
And the heat of it is frightening me.
The fire of exacting faith
Is asking too much of me
I tremble at the grand design of life
And all that is asked of me.
I want to be spared,
I want to believe In Your faith in me,
But I am so weak in this doom of humanity
I want to escape the fires awaiting
me.
You tell me You endured
The hell fires of suffering;
The clay in me begins to burn and
harden,
I am sacrificed as Your holy offering.
- CATHRYNE ALLEN
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