Beauty in the Broken

One of the first things I would do every morning upon awakening, during my recent vacation, was throw on some shoes and head down to the beach. Each morning I would take a long walk, alone, as the waves lapped at my feet. There was just something so calming and so special about those solitary mornings. The sound of the wind and water was hypnotic. Smiling at the few passers-by that I encountered during my morning jaunt, I would use that time to clear my head, pray, and watch the pelicans glide silently through the air. With wings outstretched, they would fly so low over the water you could almost see their toes dip into the glistening gulf. But my favorite thing to do on those daily walks was look at the shells. As a girl, I would spend hours with a bucket as I examined each shell to find the most perfect and beautiful shells to add to my collection. True to form, during this trip my eyes were once again drawn to the seashells. There were just so many of them! Because of how the gulf would pound the shores during high tide, there were lines of fractured shells the entire length of the beach. The crunch of these broken pieces under my feet would provide an unexpected and soothing soundtrack as I walked.

Don’t get me wrong…there were many “perfect shells”. There were shells that were brightly colored. There were shells that successfully survived, unscathed, the beating of the surf and sand. These shells were lying on the beach in pristine condition, just waiting for the novice or professional shell collector to pluck them from obscurity. These shells knew they would then join that lucky collector’s treasure trove in another home state once the vacation of that treasure hunter ended.

I passed these perfect shells by. This trip, I was drawn to the shells that had taken a beating. I stopped to look more closely at the shells that were bruised and battered. Each day I would pick up one or two of these misfit shells, stick them in my pocket and bring them back to the beach house that was home to me during my stay. Early in the week, a family member asked me after my early walk if I had found some pretty shells that morning. I pulled out the beachy treasures I had brought home that day. He looked surprised as he surveyed the shells I held in my hand. I told him I was more drawn to the broken shells this trip. “There is beauty in the broken”, I explained. “You may have just found your next blog post,” Shawn replied.

There is a type of Japanese art called Kintsugi. For centuries, Japanese artisans have practiced the age-old tradition of using gold or other precious metals to “repair” broken pottery. Instead of cementing broken pieces together with an adhesive that would camouflage the fractures, these artists would highlight the pottery’s faults in such a way the pottery became a beautiful, one-of-a-kind, piece of art. These broken pieces would likely have previously been discarded. Now in the hands of the artist, they have been given a second, even more beautiful life.

My sister married a pharmacist. Little did we all know her husband would be a pharmacist by day and become a glass mosaic artist by night. Todd developed an interest in creating art with pieces of broken glass. His mosaics are simply amazing. Some of his mosaics contain over 40,000 pieces of glass, each piece painstakingly placed and glued by hand until Todd’s artistic vision is complete. Todd has had his mosaics shown in galleries across the country. He has attended conventions and demonstrated his techniques. He has sold some of his one-of-a-kind mosaics to lucky collectors. But the beauty of his mosaics is each one is made from glass that has been broken. Only an artist like Todd can look at broken glass and see the beauty of the final masterpiece before a single piece of glass is put in place.

My fascination with the broken is no accident. Life is like the ocean waves and I am like a shell that has been hurled full force into the sand. I’ve been broken during that process. I’m confident you have felt the fury of life’s waves and have felt broken at some point, too. The high tide and pounding surf of life takes its toll on all of us. None of us escape unharmed. Some people may try to pass themselves off like the rare, perfect shells I saw on the beach during my vacation. But if we have lived any life at all, then we know some of those “perfect” shells are really just broken pieces glued together to camouflage the cracks we have earned on our journey. Fractured dreams, disappointments, disillusionment, disease and even death can break us. Sometimes we become so broken we lose hope.

The Bible has much to say about our brokenness:

You are altogether beautiful, my darling.  There is no flaw in you.  Song of Solomon 4:7 

For we are God’s masterpiece. He has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so we can do the good things he planned for us.  Ephesians 2:10

Did you hear that? God sees no flaw in you. You are beautiful in his eyes. He considers you a masterpiece. He has good things planned for you. Those cracks you see? The broken parts that make you feel less than? God fills those cracks just like the Japanese Kintsugi artists fill the pottery cracks with gold, giving us an even more beautiful tomorrow. The gold God uses to repair those cracks? It doesn’t just add beauty. It allows us to fulfill our purpose while making us stronger than we were before. Our strength isn’t ours. Our strength is provided by the generous strokes of the divine artist.

The Bible goes on to say: God will restore on us a crown of beauty in place of our ashes.  Isaiah 61: 3b

He has made everything beautiful in its time.  Ecclesiastes 3:11

Even when our lives feel like they have gone up in flames, when there aren’t even pieces left but only ashes, God makes a promise. He promises to trade our ashes for beauty, because he makes EVERYTHING beautiful in its time. Not some of the things. Not someone else’s things. All the things. Everything will be made beautiful. That promise includes you and it includes me.

So have courage. If you are feeling broken today, if you feel discarded or you believe you lack value or worth, take some time to remember. Remember because of your brokenness, the beauty of your life will come in the divine artist’s time. We may get impatient. We may want things to happen according to OUR timetable. Let’s not forget the divine artist can see the entire masterpiece of our lives. He doesn’t see what we see. While we can only see the broken, his perspective is different. He sees how each piece fits together. He can already see the end result of the masterpiece of your life. Here’s a spoiler alert: In the eyes of the artist you are already a perfectly beautiful, priceless work of art. Let’s try to live our lives through the lens of the divine artist. There really is beauty in the broken if we take the time to look for it.

Big House

My girls and I took a wonderfully unexpected vacation last week. Our beach house was HUGE! That house made me start thinking about where we will live in Heaven. I hope you take a few minutes to read my thoughts about heaven and God’s Big House.

My girls and I were recently invited by some very generous family members to accompany them to Bonita Beach in Florida for an unexpected vacation.  For those of you who haven’t been there, Bonita Beach is on the west side of the peninsula just south of Ft. Myers.  This trip was such a gift to us. Because of COVID-19, our previously made plans to travel had been cancelled. We had resigned ourselves to the fact there would be no vacation for us this year. That all changed when we got the call about this opportunity. Imagine our surprise to learn our enormous beach house didn’t just have its own pool, it backed up to our own private private beach area. Take it from me, this is how you quarantine in style! 

Arriving at The Biltmore Beach house in Bonita Beach.

When I say the house was enormous, I am not kidding. This house had three stories and an elevator. It had multiple balconies. It had a fourth floor watch tower complete with a telescope for additional star-gazing and long-range viewing of the gulf. When we arrived, we were shown to our own rooms on the second floor. This place was huge! There was room to spread out in our own space, but also to live communally with family. There were movie nights, games, and home-cooked meals at a big, big table. There were days at the pool, walks on the beach, intimate conversations, and lots and lots of laughter. What a week!

I posted a vacation photo on social media on one of the first nights we were there. I captioned the photo with one word: “Heaven”. I used that caption in a metaphorical kind of way.  But after I did, I started thinking about Heaven.  When I was a kid, I thought heaven sounded boring.  My childlike mind envisioned white robes, halos, harps and floating clouds.  I couldn’t imagine spending forever in that kind of space.  Heaven sounded like the absence of fun.    

Bonita Beach sunset

The Bible has a lot to say about Heaven. These are some of Jesus’ own words in John 14: 2-3. “In my Father’s house are many mansions. If it were not so, I would have told you. I go to prepare a place for you.” This passage used to confuse me. After all, how can there be many mansions IN a house? I know God is big enough that his house COULD contain mansions for all of us. Still, I couldn’t quite reconcile the thought of having my very own mansion IN God’s house.

Several years ago, a vocal group by the name of Audio Adrenaline released a song titled, “Big House.”   The song received incredible radio airplay.  Everyone who listened to Christian radio knew the song.  Do you remember how everyone could sing along to the words to “Don’t worry.  Be happy” or “Hakuna Matata” when these songs were released?  “Big House” was that kind of song.  The words were catchy.

“I don’t know where you lay your head
Or where you call your home
I don’t know where you eat your meals
Or where you talk on the phone
I don’t know if you got a cook
A butler or a maid
I don’t know if you got a yard
With a hammock in the shade

Come and go with me
To my Father’s house
Come and go with me
To my Father’s house

It’s a big, big house
With lots and lots of room
A big, big table
With lots and lots of food
A big, big yard
Where we can play football
A big, big house
It’s my Father’s house

All I know is a big ole house
With rooms for everyone
All I know is lots a land
Where we can play and run
All I know is you need love
And I’ve got a family
All I know is you’re all alone
So why not come with me?”

Songwriters: Kelly Nickels / Mick Cripps / Philip Lewis / Steve Riley / Traci Gunns Big House lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Songtrust Ave

First century Middle Eastern culture was a very patriarchal culture.  It was also a very communal culture.  When a son (usually around 18 years of age) became betrothed, or engaged, to a very young girl (usually around 11-12 years of age), his father would begin to add a room onto the family home for them to live in.  When the room was finally ready and it met all the father’s specifications, he would tell his son to go get his bride. After the wedding, this young woman would leave her home and family and be assimilated as a member of her husband’s family.  As additional babies were birthed, or more sons married, more rooms were added to make room for the growing family.  They spent their lives in a BIG House that was also a loving, family community.

Jesus understood the culture of the day he was living in. He used an example he knew his disciples would understand. In his example, God represents the Father, Jesus represents the bridegroom, and we are the bride. When our room is finally ready, the Father will let Jesus know. Then he will come and get us so we can live where he lives. Forever home. Forever a family. Life in community. Belonging. Sharing purpose. Sharing laughter. Sharing love.

The newer THE MESSAGE Bible translates John 14:2-3 this way: “There is plenty of room for you in my Father’s home. If that weren’t so, would I have told you that I’m on my way to get a room ready for you? And if I’m on my way to get your room ready, I’ll come back and get you so you can live where I live.”

I still can’t fully understand what Heaven will be like.  But I know this. I don’t need a mansion.  I just need a room in God’s big house. 

Now, where did I put that football?