The Potter's Scars

In the Potter's house, the clay
Is upon a turning wheel,
Whether moving slow or swiftly,
All is at the Potter's will.
As it goes, the clay is pressed
Into the Potter's hand,
There He forms a vessel
According to His plan.
Yet, sometimes within the clay
There are hidden little stones,
And as the clay is formed,
Those stones are then made known.

And the Potter's hands are smooth,
For upon the vessel made
The fingerprints of the Potter
Are left upon the clay,
And in place of His fingerprints
Are scars placed by the stones
Hidden in the heart of the clay,
But to the Potter's hands were known.

Lord, when the wheel of life is turning
And I'm pressed into Your hands,
You gently work to mold me
According to Your plan.
Yet, sometimes there lay within me
Little sins like hidden stones,
And as my clay is fashioned 
Those stones are then made known.
Still You work to mold and make me,
Notwithstanding who I am,
Knowing that those hidden sins
Are the stones that scarred Your hands.

And the Potter's hands are smooth,
For upon the vessel made
The fingerprints of the Potter
Are left upon the clay,
And in place of His fingerprints
Are scars placed by the stones 
Hidden in the heart of the clay,
But to the Potter's hands were known.

I see the scars,
I thrust my hand into His side,
I see the tears
That He shed to make me right, 
I see the Cross
On which He died to remove all my dross,
I see the print of my sins
On my Blessed Savior's hands.

And in place of His fingerprints
Are scars placed by the stones
Hidden in the heart of the clay,
But to the Potter's hands were known.

Copyright © Elisabeth Radfar 2017

Who Am I

A vessel marred, crushed by sin;
A broken heart, scarred within;
A soul that lost all hope to win,
But God of all mercy reached down,
Touched my life and made me whole,
Cleansed my heart, restored my soul,
Took me as His very Own;
In wonder and praise I bow--

Who am I, that You would love me?
Who am I, that You should save me?
Who am I, that You could use me
As a vessel in Your hands,
Who am I?

See the dying and the lost,
Who will tell them of the Cross?
How can I sit and count the cost,
When the fields are ripe to be won?
For those souls You shed Your blood,
Who will teach them of Your love
And point them to the God Above,
Your praise in their hearts to be sung?

Here am I, You can send me.
Here am I, You can lead me.
Here am I, You can use me
As a vessel in Your hand,
Here am I.

Now my Savior says, "All power is Mine,
Go and preach the Word divine,
Bring the poor, the sick, and lost
To find refuge at the Cross.

"And I Am He that sustains you,
I Am He that upholds you,
I Am He that will use you
As a vessel in My hand;
Go and tell the world that I Am.
Go and tell the world the I Am.
Go and tell the world that I Am."

Copyright © Elisabeth Radfar 2017


Chains in Splendor

Amidst an awesome beauty,
High upon a rocky steep,
Traveled lone and weary pilgrim
Who’d left ease and comfort sweet.

Hard the sunrays beat upon her
With its penetrating heat,
Though quite weary from her toil,
Yet she did not dare retreat.

So treacherous her pathway,
Steep and narrow was her lane,
On either hand a precipice,
But centered was a chain.

Precariously she climbed
With security her gain,
Only gazing at the glory
But while clasping to the chain.

Chains upon the mountain,
Placed there by some bygone soul;
Rugged trail already trodden,
Now his story doth unfold.

Splendor of the mountains, never
Matched by earthly pride,
But it’s beauty hardly captured
Ere the trav’ler’s foot would slide.

Yet one, known by rocky dwellings,
Whose sure foot had learned the stones,
Called to mind his early wavering,
Set a guard for weaker ones.

Chain so grey and harsh to hold
Set amidst the splendorous steeps;
Doth it hinder by withholding,
Or in safety young ones keep?

Say, they cannot grasp the cliffs
While holding to the chain of steel,
How then can they fully fathom
All the depths, the heights, and thrills?

Aye, but never would they know
All the glories and the joys
Were the chain to be refused,
For they’d slip and be destroyed. 

Would you reach the other side
Of the precipice of life?
Hold unflinching to the chain
Set by Him Who paid the price.

Copyright © Elisabeth Radfar 2017


Candle in the Window

Candle in the window
Softly glowing on the snow,
Dancing flame reflecting
From the pane with gentle glow.

Flickers warmly marching
Out into the chilly night,
With their golden shadows
Chasing off the child's fright.

Candle in the window
Whispers through the frosty glaze,
To the worn and weary
Beckons hope and brighter days.

Tender light reminding
Of the Greater Light Above,
Who, through simple little windows,
Shines His peace, His joy, His Love.
Copyright © Elisabeth Radfar 2016


Christ, My Prince

Oh, the longing, how it pines
For a prince so charming!
While my peers do find their bliss
I am still but wondering.

The tender ache oft' overwhelms
As love sends forth her blossom,
Yet, as it calls it doth remind
How God is truly awesome!

My heart doth long for a knight
Whose armor--it is shining,
A man who'd slay a dragon fierce
To spare his maid from dying.

Christ, my Savior, He's a Knight
Whose armor--it is gleaming.
The chains of sin and death He broke,
In love His Bride redeeming.

Oft' times I sit and think how nice
'Would be to have a prince
Who'd send me flowers and notes of love,
Then come and whisk me hence.

Ah! Jesus, He's the Prince of Peace,
His love for me is great.
Flowers and letters He hath given
And He'll take me thru' Heaven's gate.

Oh, how I'm longing for a man
Who'll carry my burdens heavy,
A strong arm, a hand to hold,
To guide me in the way we're heading.

My precious Lord is such a One,
He bears my heavy load,
He offers me His Own strong arm
And leads me in the Way to go.

Oft' times I dream of that sweet day
When with my love I'll walk,
And share with him all of my heart,
In sweet commune we'll talk.

The Rose of Sharon has promised that
He'll never leave my side.
He bids me pour out my heart to Him,
In wisdom He'll tender reply.

O Christ, You are my heart's desire,
I give my all to You,
For You alone can satisfy,
You always will be true.

And if, someday, You place my hand
In that of noble knight,
May our relationship display
All that is pure and right.

Copyright © Elisabeth Linzey 2016
*Psalm 73:23-28 


Servant Forever

Through the treetops, o’re the hills
Flooding lowest vale,
There rang a message loud and clear
And reached each servant’s trail.

The year of Jubilee had come
Releasing every slave,
Each man was free to claim the world,
Wherever he could brave.

Yet, as the masses bid farewell
With eager thirst for power,
A faithful servant looked abroad
And gazed beyond the tower.

The vast adventure lay before,
So beckoning to all,
Parading trophies, flaunting dreams,
Alluring in its call.

But glamour would not charm this heart,
Nor pomp persuade his eye,
As one devoted servant turned
With but one noble cry,

“Peirce my ear, my dearest Lord,
Take me to your door;
I’ll serve no other king but Thee,
My life is only Yours.”
Her tiny feet so tender yet,
Her steps so small with joy,
Not even words of eloquence
Could her own lips employ.

But slipping softly from her seat
Upon a parlor couch,
She sweetly made her way beyond
Till father’s feet she touched,

The fame and pleasure of the world
Were of but worthless charm;
As here a little girl’s desire
Was but her daddy’s arm.

Though greatest depths of intellect
She could not fathom all,
Such purest heart, so innocent,
Rejoiced to heed his call.

Surrendered to his strength and will,
She sought not for her own,
The longing in her softened heart—
To kneel but at his throne.

For her father’s throne, so humble here,
Reflected her father’s King,
Of Whom she had been gently taught
And now desired to sing.

Then, turning round’ she beckoned all
The noble and esteemed
To come and gather round the throne
And lift a voice redeemed:

*“Pierce my ear, O Lord my God,
Take me to Your door this day,
I will serve no other god,
Lord, I’m here to stay.

“For You have paid the price for me,
With Your blood You ransomed me.
I will serve You eternally;
A free man I’ll never be.”*

Copyright © Elisabeth Linzey 2016
*Final two stanzas by Author Unknown

Family devotions brought us to the story in the Bible of God telling the children of Israel about how they were to handle a servant that desired to remain in his master's house for the rest of his life. Following the Scripture reading and the expounding of our father, we learned a new song which our mother taught us. The description of the little girl is of my 1 1/2-year old little sister who quite encouraged our hearts. 


Just a Little Crabby

Two small crabs were once confined
Within a narrow space,
The one said to the other,
“Let us flee this dreary place.”

The one stepped foot upon the wall
To make his brave escape,
And, also, did his fellow who
Disdained the crabs’ estate.

Yet, never could they get so far
For just a simple slack;
 As one would try to climb above
His friend would pull him back.

 Oft’ times we tend to be the same,
Trapped in some dreary place,
Perhaps the gloom of crabby drab
Has left a sullen face.

 To flee the pit of pity, yea,
We do indeed desire,
But hindered by the crabs around
We all too soon retire.

Let not another pull you down
From finding joy and peace,
Press onward till you’ve reached the heights,
And share the love and grace.

Copyright © Elisabeth Linzey 2016