These last few years. My heavens. They have been cracked through with loss. With searing pain and heart ache so deep it felt like my heart itself would rip at times. Years filled with doctor visits and emergency room trips and there was the small thing of an antibiotic messing with my vision a few weeks ago, because it was starting to cause pressure on my brain. Minor detail, it is one of the few antibiotics remaining I am, ahem was, not allergic to. My doctor looks at me and says she sincerely hopes I do not catch an infection. Me too.
It’s been a shattering, and a gathering, and a becoming all wrapped into three years of hard-won decisions to trust when I could not see. The broken pieces of dreams lay strewn throughout my soul. Sharp fragments that cut deep.
But in the middle of these broken heart pieces, He walked and gathered the shards of my dreams that once were. He didn’t crush them. He didn’t toss them aside. He held them in His hands scarred with nails, pierced with the shards of broken humanity. He gathered my fragments and arranged them in ways they could have never fit together if they had not been broken. Then he fused them with gold. There is gold in the healing of our broken places.
The shards of shattered dreams are now a masterpiece, a mosaic filled full of His molten love, defined by His promises, struck through with gold, stronger and more beautiful than they ever were before.
The Japanese have a practice called kintsukuroi, which means to repair with gold. It’s the art form of repairing broken pottery with gold based on the belief that the vessel is more beautiful for having been broken. The act of cherishing a pot’s history, knowing that the repair, the process, the mending is what makes that pot even more valuable. That healing itself is an art.
When our dreams are broken or start to fall apart from decay, it is easy to give up and want to walk away. But if we hang on to grace in the waiting and don’t throw away the pieces, as painful as they may be, the Master Potter is on His way. He will come to gather, to infuse them with gold and make them into a work of art we can not now imagine.
In a season that is joyful for so many, I know there are many of you that see Christmas coming and there is a pit of dread that forms deep in your gut. Someone you love is not there. Something happened that marred the holidays with piercing loss. You are not alone. He is waiting to take the gift that was given Him so long ago in the stable at Bethlehem and fuse those pieces that still cut and make your heart bleed into a work of His art.
This is the painting I was working on up above. Please know I treasure the fact you would take time to be with these words. Tonight I am very, very grateful. For you. For Him. For gold transforming broken places and scarred hearts into His work of art. You are loved. Always.