We are surrounded by much that is broken.
Sometimes in life we make choices, people make choices we think we never can recover from. You can only see ten thousand pieces, but He sees a beautiful mosaic.
He makes beautiful things out of the dust. He makes beautiful things out of us.
“God uses broken things. It takes broken soil to produce a crop, broken clouds to give rain, broken grain to give bread, broken bread to give strength. It is the broken alabaster box that gives forth perfume. It is Peter, weeping bitterly, who returns to greater power than ever.” -Havner
"He healeth the broken in heart, and bindeth up their wounds” Psalm 147:3
A vessel made by the Potter is beautiful. Unique. A gift. It is to be admired and handled with care. Set apart.
Once that vessel has been handled carelessly, has fallen and its contents have spilled out, its pieces scattered onto the floor - with the strongest glue and patience of putting it back to its former state... together.. it is never truly what it once was. Even with the best, skilled reassembly.. it is still not whole unless it is made entirely new. So with reassembly.. comes protection and recognition of its tenuous state.
None the less, that vessel has traveled years with us - it is an attachment that as much as history itself, has become a part of us. But here it is so broken - so carelessly handled time and time again without sense or concern... until it is in a dust pan above the trash when repair requires a literal miracle. This broken vessel is no longer in working order.
How many times can it break? And rebreak? And break again before it becomes nothing but shards of dust? One must grow tired of sweeping up the same pieces and carefully trying to sort them and piece them like a puzzle, hoping maybe a little more glue will do the trick this time... a little more patience and thicker skin... Our foe being that it is taking less and less now to break something that has only become more and more increasingly fragile, despite our best efforts of preserving it. More blood, more sweat, more tears. This vessel has long since dried out.. And as much as we explain over and over how already fragile it is, it keeps getting dropped as if it's a cat with nine lives. Cats and vessels land differently however when dropped.
Yet we try to once again, resolving not to part with it, not to throw it away. We patiently reglue and reglue... again, through blurred eyes and cut fingers. Pain required in anything that you value saving ... but what if in the process we are breaking too. Reason.. that maybe our best skilled hands are not His - understandably. Conviction... that requires discernment to know when to put down the broom, the dustpan and the glue - finally. Faith... that requires us to give the pieces to Him and let Him make what He will out of what is broken - ultimately.
Out of chaos life is being found.
He is the only one Who takes our broken pieces dwindled down to shards and dust - and makes them into something beautiful. Dry your eyes and let your fingertips heal beloved.
He makes beautiful things.
