Our bodies are made of clay,
Molded and shaped for to obey;
By the potter and with His hands,
Who is God and as He commands.
God molds us so that we may hold,
The greatest story ever told;
Treasure waiting in the Gospel,
Being announced to the people.
Such a superior power,
Still as precious as a flower;
For this treasure belongs to God,
And is the potter whom we laud.
So many times I am bothered,
In our minds I am disturbed;
But I persist and not give up,
The blood of Christ is in my cup.
Pursued but yet not forsaken,
Smitten but not overtaken;
For we carry the death of Christ,
And willing to be sacrificed.
We live but delivered to death,
When we partake our last breath;
For His sake in a mortal nature,
We still remain a new creature.
Death is at work but life is too,
If the life of Christ is in you;
The one that brought Christ back to life,
Also helps us through the midst of strife.
