“He said, ‘Can I not do with you, Israel, as this potter does?’ declares the Lord. “Like clay in the hand of the potter, so are you in my hand, Israel” (Jeremiah 18:6).
Each morning I have a schedule to make sure everything gets done. Archie and I used to have a well choreographed dance: graceful, peaceful, well rehearsed, getting us both off to work with positive attitudes. Now my single jig lacks finesse but gets the job done.
On the home stretch from the morning solo rumba, I grab my keys to lock the door but a shiny green ornament adjacent captured my eye.
Taylor rescued a slightly broken ornament wreath from The Depot. It’s shiny bulbs in red, green, and gold caught the rays of the sun when she walked in the door, projecting rainbow fractals throughout the entry hall. It had found it’s own home, the inside of the front door.
On the wall behind hangs the “Window to Mom’s Soul,” altered art I had created for Taylor’s graduation. From behind the glass, wire strung side to side with clips holds pictures of Taylor and Archie from when she was first born to the last picture taken together, the night before chemo started. These pictures are surrounded by 3D Heartfelt Creation’s flowers, hidden coffee cups, and is encompassed by lights. Above, a sign reading: Cherish Yesterday*Dream Tomorrow*Live Today, is our reminder that life did not stop with the photographs.
At some point when the door was opened, the ornament caught the corner of the window, popping a hole, breaking the glue, ultimately releasing it, sending it sailing to the floor, disconnected, broken, and unnoticed.
I have no idea how long the little lost ornament had been hiding in the corner, but today was the day of discovery. As I picked up the dusty ornament, quickly turning to see from whence it came, I realized the wreath would never look the same. The shattered pieces of the bulb were long gone and the hole was positioned in a way that was impossible to hide even by turning the sphere.
I did not have time to deal with this bauble, so I placed the detached trinket down to deal with later, returning to my schedule.
Life is chaotic. Holidays were busy and emotional. Bauble sat alone for the remainder of the Christmas season, watching Taylor and I go in and out with our list of “to do’s” and “have to’s,” all the while close enough to see the rest of the wreath glisten. No one else acknowledged Bauble was no longer forefront. Her absence went unnoticed with the holiday bustle.
Now ’tis the season to place the wreath in storage…and there lay Bauble.
Like Bauble, so many of us have felt we were finally where we were meant to be. We were positioned in a way that our lives “caught” whatever our heavenly Dad shined at us and we reflected it’s beauty. Life was not about us as an individual, we were part of something much bigger, and we belonged. Our wreaths or groups, were similar in size, shape, sheen…or would that be interests, family make up, and beliefs? We fit perfectly into our wreath shaped lives, an infinity circle.
Suddenly something unexpected happens: the intentions may have been innocent, a natural progression or an abrupt catastrophe. It pops an unrepairable hole in our world. The foundation we thought was solid, holding us in place, breaks and suddenly we are spinning out of control to destination unknown. When the tornado ceases, we painfully crash, leaving us looking, from a distance, at the rest of the world from which we thought we were forefront and no one even seems to notice. They continue glistening without us.
We can lay there, in the corner, hidden but in plan sight. How can that be?
“He said, ‘Can I not do with you, Israel, as this potter does?’ declares the Lord. “Like clay in the hand of the potter, so are you in my hand, Israel” (Jeremiah 18:6)
If Bauble were alive she would have a choice. She could stay hidden only to be found later while being swept into the trash. Staying in the corner is safe and easy to accept. No one expects anymore as she is a victim of circumstance.
Bauble could, however, choose to roll out from that corner, realizing she still has value but, no longer being part of the wreath, her purpose has changed. With the touch of a Master’s hand, the sharp broken edges can be cut and sanded (painful as it would be), into an delicate oval. The exposed interior, which was unseen and purposeless as a bulb, can be filled with poinsettias, pine cones, and evergreens to display heavenly Dad’s natural artistry. Bauble can become become a featured work of art on display for more than those who happen to close the front door.
The Master sees past the pieces and can transform brokenness into undeniable beauty, like clay in the hand of a potter. But, Bauble has to come out of the corner. The Master is waiting for her to stop focusing on herself, the imperfections and seek Him. He is waiting, tools ready and a plan in place. He is ready. Where is she?
In my time with heavenly Dad, this song was attached. Listen to the very beginning:
I peer through windows
watch life go by
dream of tomorrows and wonder why
the past is holding me
keeping life at bay
I wander lost, in yesterday
wanting to fly,
but scared to try….
I do need someone who will be with me to my end, to tell my secrets, and help me see the world like I have never seen it…like my heavenly Dad. He can open all the doors because they are His creation.
He sees my brokenness and knows nothing will be the same. Instead of trying to super glue me back into a wreath where my imperfections would be magnified and detract from the beauty, He has a plan. Though painful and far from completion, he is cutting and sanding my jagged edges (aka, uglies). I have faith that someday my emptiness will be full of an unsurpassed beauty. If not in this life, than in the forever after.
Until January 16th: Blessings!