Jeremiah 18:1-4 (NIV) says, “This is the word that came to Jeremiah from the LORD:
     ‘Go down to the potter’s house, and there I will give you my message.’  So I went down to the potter’s house, and I saw him working at the wheel.  But the pot he was shaping from the clay was marred in his hands; so the potter formed it into another pot, shaping it as seemed best to him.
 
Just as the clay, our lives can be marred when we resist the Lord’s plans for us.  We run, we kick back sometimes, we entertain anger, self-pity, fear, frustration.  If we will, instead, make the decision to trust in Jesus and put our lives in His hands, the Lord WILL form us anew, just as the potter reforms clay to create an altogether new pot.  He tells us that His plans for us are for good (Jeremiah 29:11).  Take your second chance today (or third, forth, fifth?) and call out to the Lord to remake your life into something that will amaze you, and bring the joy, peace, strength, and riches that this world cannot.
The Touch of the Master’s Hand Violin DONE
 
‘Twas battered and scarred, and the auctioneer
Thought it scarcely worth his while
To waste much time on the old violin,
But held it up with a smile:
 
“What am I bidden, good folks,” he cried,
“Who’ll start the bidding for me?”
“A dollar, a dollar”; then, “Two!” “Only two?
Two dollars, and who’ll make it three?
Three dollars, once; three dollars, twice;
Going for three—-” But no,
From the room, far back, a gray-haired man
Came forward and picked up the bow;
Then, wiping the dust from the old violin,
And tightening the loose strings,
He played a melody pure and sweet
As a caroling angel sings.

The music ceased, and the auctioneer,
With a voice that was quiet and low,
Said: “What am I bid for the old violin?”
And he held it up with the bow.

“A thousand dollars, and who’ll make it two?
Two thousand! And who’ll make it three?
Three thousand, once, three thousand, twice,
And going, and gone,” said he.
The people cheered, but some of them cried,
“We do not quite understand
What changed its worth.” Swift came the reply:
“The touch of a master’s hand.”

And many a man with life out of tune,
And battered and scarred with sin,
Is auctioned cheap to the thoughtless crowd,
Much like the old violin.
A “mess of pottage,” a glass of wine;
A game–and he travels on.
He is “going” once, and “going” twice,
He’s “going” and almost “gone.”
But the Master comes, and the foolish crowd
Never can quite understand
The worth of a soul and the change that’s wrought
By the touch of the Master’s hand.

                                          –Myra Brooks Welch