The more I try to renew my mind, the more the devil tries to remind me of my past, of who I was; last week, last month, last year and last decade;
But God says that I am fearfully and wonderfully made; So I took the spade out of my thoughts, the devil put there for me to bury myself; crawled on up out of that hole of self pity,
shimmied all the dirt off my shoulders caked up so much that it had me; hunched over and Red Rovered myself right on back to my Father's Potter's Wheel;
Locked God's word in my heart so the devil couldn't steal- what he tries to kill and destroy out of my soul. Climbed on that Potter's Wheel; a strange and awful looking mold of an earthen vessel;
I nestled myself at the feet of my God as He begins to work His hands into the awkwardness of my clay spinning and shaping and molding me all which-way;
taking the form of what His words say "that I am fearfully and wonderfully made"