I used to be a better pot 
Of beauty, strength and pride. 
A useful vessel men could trust 
With all they placed inside. 
But now a pot with many cracks,
Unpleasant to the eye.
Unuseful in my brokenness,
No matter how I try.
But God sees me as beautiful,
Through eyes of love and grace.
Great treasures then He placed in me.
His Spirit, hope and faith.
I begged, Lord mend the cracks and holes
That soil my good name.
Please make me as I was before,
That I might hide my shame.
He said, I chose you with those cracks and holes
Caused by your life of sin.
And it's through them, the world might see
The light I've placed within.