Broken Vase

She was meant for great things he said. She was beautiful she said.

She was amazing they said.

 She defied the odds, her Mama said to the kindergarten teacher who spoke the unkind pronouncement that ‘she would never amount to anything’.

Handed her diploma, a high school graduate with honors all four years, her Mama declared that kindergarten teacher’s pronouncement an untruth.

On her way…She marched wherever she wanted. She painted, she danced, she sang, she learned. She declared things. She defended the downtrodden. She took up armor against the unfair. She touched the sick. She held the brokenhearted. She didn’t really hear the declarations because she was just dancing on and doing what she thought was best.

Until Him.

The Potter.

In the studio she listened to His kind Word and tried to follow all that He instructed. Watching the construction of vessels for purpose beyond her understanding. The truth flowed through that place. She breathed it in every day. She immersed herself in the earthenware clay and watched as the fires of the oven hardened surfaces and brought out intricate tapestries of color. There were repeated attempts at making pots herself that collapsed or had weak places that made holes, or sculptures that exploded or melted in the kiln. Always with one eye on the Master Potter and one eye on the work before her spinning around and around.

And then.

Still marching along to the beat of her own drum, not really listening to the Potter, she heard another song and followed the music down a long path into a dark place. The dark place was deceptive. It appeared to hold light. It looked like it was so much fun and mystery. It held connection to others who looked to hold the answers and had big ideas. The Potter’s Words lingered but had grown to be faint whispers in her heart.

The result of this detour was a gentle nudge and reminder of all the consequences of broken vessels and of the Potter’s handling of these ‘mistakes’.

A vessel ruined. Not centered on the wheel and remaining under the careful, skilled Hands of the Potter, she was not useable for the original intent. In tears, in despair, in shame, in aloneness she saw that she had been broken… but for good.

The good poured out. The amazingness of the Potter picking the ‘tarnished’ pot back up and placing it back on the wheel to be restored and repurposed flowed through the girl. This revelation knowledge began to heal deep wounds and with it, an inescapable joy was born. This incredible gift of being filled with creation, with beauty, with newness was mingled with the sorrow of separation and the struggle between shame and acceptance.

Being placed back on the wheel involved a painful and forceful ‘throwing’. The squeeze of strong Hands and the pulling of fingers across her flesh, ironed out rough places and removed blemishes that would have made the vase useless. She stayed there and let the Potter have His way with her. In the process she grew into a graceful being. She was no longer marching but waltzing. This time the music was enveloping her and carrying her along the path; the path to the King’s house. She went forward carrying with her a gift.

The gift was a little boy. A gift given for the girl’s salvation. A gift so full that it wasn’t just for her. A gift that she returned to the throne of the King in Thanksgiving. Praise overflowing, tears falling, joy consuming, she bore that child to the place she knew he would always be cared for and grown in safety and peace; the place where he would walk into his purpose in the Kingdom.

The King trusted her with this amazing gift and that was even more restoration than she had ever dreamed possible.

She glanced over her shoulder and saw the Potter was there too. He was smiling from ear to ear and came forward to embrace her and the child. His work, not completed yet, had become useful and the love and delight was palpable.

Thank You Master Potter for never being ‘done’. Will You keep molding and shaping for eternity? Will you make this broken vase worthy to hold a great bouquet of flowers suitable to be placed before the Throne of the King?