I'm a piece of work, a lot of days.
I wish I were the Sistine Chapel... I know it's not finished, but at least it's beautiful.
It's more likely that I'm a particularly tough piece of clay... Isaiah 64:8
But now, O LORD,you are our Father;
we are the clay, and you are our potter;
we are all the work of your hand.
While I have aspirations of becoming a beautiful vessel worthy of fine flowers and prime placement, I'm feelin' like an ashtray. Like a 4th grader's art project with some serious defects. *sigh*