Running in flames

I just re-read my morning post as I rock Caleb to sleep. I am laughing out loud over my impatience! I was impatiently posting about patience! Ha. The joke is on me! If I were to write a poem about the state of my heart today, it would be a satire of George MacDonald's profound words:

But Thou art making me, I rail against Thee, sire.
What Thou hast done and doest Thou knows't well,
although I mightedst not admit it.
Alas, I hinder Thee; flailing in Thy fire
I will run burning; from Thy potter's wheel
I fly in pieces, and my brain doth reel.
Tho Thy grace shall be enough the grief to quell,
I forget it and grieve still
Proving Thy strength perfect through weakness dire.

~ Genevieve Thul, Diary of a Young Soul, September 25