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Anonymous said...

God is so awesome! Today I was cleaning like an Amish woman scared her sister's were coming for an unannounced quilting party and I found myslef in our scary basement! Not sure why I had to vaccum down there, but I just did. Anyways, while I was down there I tripped over an old box and I pulled back the tattered brown bag on top and guess what was inside? My beautiful fine china I received as a wedding gift! Sounds good huh? Well, the thing is ALL 12 place settings of my cherished beautiful china was smashed and broken to bits! You see, 9 years ago when I was a new gleaming bride my cupboard holding all my new pretty china fell off the wall and all my dishes flew out and across the entire house, leaving me crying on the floor as I held the broken saucers and dinner plates to my chest. I thought for sure this was some sort of sign that my new marriage was heading for disaster, not only that now I'd have to serve my guests on that cheap Correl stuff that I loathed. My new hubby helped me pick up every piece and months later I would still find chips hear and there as I'd clean. Tobey tried to throw the box away many times, but everytime we moved, I made sure my broken box of china went along for some reason. I just couldn't part with it. I would pick up the box and take it to the trash, but then I'd feel a tug deep within and I'd stuff it back in a nook somewhere. Well, today when I tripped on that box, I had no idea why I welled up with tears and examined a few of the broken pieces. Then just a few hours later I stumbled across your blog about the broken pieces of our lives you wrote. I've seen that broken Longaberger pitcher at your place many times and I even heard you talk about why you broke it, but I always thought, what a shame to break such a great piece why not an old cheap ugly one, ha! After reading your blog I had tears in my eyes as I realized God was so clearly speaking to me today! I didn't have just one broken piece, but an entire box and collection of pieces that were once worth hundreds of dollars. Just like my bag of sins and guilt and past transgressions, they seemed dirty and worthless but I couldn't let them go all these years. It may take me a long time to glue them all back together, and I'll need a new china hutch to display them, and it won't take a bright light bulb to let the light shine through the cracks, some of the tea cups may be missing their handles:-) Thank you for being a vessel for the Lord to help others see and hear God. Love you lots.

Anonymous said...

I bought a pot along the road side while we were in Africa visiting family. It was so unique looking, but very fragile since it appeared that it may have not been "fired" yet, no glazes applied. That favorite piece of our whole trip didn't survive the plane trip and I found it in a million pieces, it seemed, when I opened the trunk of souvenirs I had brought home with me . I, too, couldn't part with those pieces. I put them in a shoe box and stored them in a teeny 1/2 bathroom we never used except for time outs. I used that as a children's message one day at our church, telling about how we go through things in life and how we can feel broken by those things, but God loves us so much he takes those pieces and puts them back together. There was a potter in the congregation that day. He afterwards came and told me he would put it back together in exchange for 50 pounds of carrots! (he was a juicer) He took those pieces and when it came back I couldn't believe what I saw. It looked more beautiful than that day I picked it up at that roadside market. Yes, it had scars and a few wholes, but he had fired it and put a finish on it that made it beautiful and it was not as fragile! I have it on my fireplace mantel to remind me how in our brokenness Jesus comes and puts us back together, piece by piece. It may be through the fire that is necessary for the repair, but we come out more beautiful than ever and stronger, even though scar ridden! By that pot I have a sign, " O Lord, You are our Father. We are the clay, You are the potter." No better hands can I ever be in except those of the Master Potter who works daily with this "getting old" lump of clay.
Thank you for sharing your gift, Lynette. Your writings always seem to be just for me at just the right moment.