The hands of the potter are at once strong and gentle. They are strong in that the palms and the fingers must exert just the right pressure to make the clay form. They are gentle in that the slightest movement alters the form of the pot. So it is with God, no? Just the right pressure to take a lump of clay and raise its sides to form the beginnings of a vessel ... And the gentle pressures begin to place the nuances that compose the beauty of the final form.
Sometimes the clay does not respond to the hands. When this is so, alternate pressures seek to right it ... and even when the clay fails yet again, even in the extreme, the patient craftsman simply keeps the wheel turning and begins anew.
So it is with God - he is the potter, I am the clay. Even now I feel his strong yet gentle touch molding and forming something new, something of singular beauty within me. What the final form will be is only in the mind of the potter - and even then, depending on the response of the clay, that form may be changed to something unexpected even by the potter.
Just what God is forming in me, I do not yet see. Perhaps he has something in mind, but depending on the clay and how it responds to God's hands, neither of us is quite sure -- yet.
-- read Jeremiah 18:1-6