I ran across this tidbit on my computer and decided to to dust off the cobwebs. Hope it helps you to get to know me a little better.
I found a broken teapot.
the past 10 years I have lived in three states, five cities, and
received mail at seven different addresses. I have painstakingly packed
and unpacked my belongings in a mishmash assortment of moving boxes,
Chick fil A waffle fry boxes, and those I've deemed most sturdy --
liquor boxes. Using bubble wrap, newspaper, plastic grocery bags, and
kitchen linens, I have attempted to secure those "sentimental" items I
didn't want to lose in the multiple-mile treks from place to place.
regularly does have its positives. It is a sure-fire way to whittle
down to the essentials of life. Usually somewhere in the process of
packing up and trying to get my mind around the idea of heading off to a
new place, I do finally find myself on that inevitable day. It's the
day I call my "unsentimental" day. It's the one you need to
have when you can be willing to throw out just about anything under the
sun in the hopes of living life less encumbered. This is also the day
you are much more concerned with saving money and avoiding more
If you're like me, you give yourself a silent
pep talk, all the while insisting, "We really didn't ever need that."
followed by "We haven't used it in the six years we've lived here!"
Quickly wrapped up by my old time favorite, "We can surely find another
one of these where we're going if we really need it".
things are tossed, sold, and given away. We've all been around when
someone is moving and gathered the cast offs when space in the moving
truck is getting scarce -- and space in our moving truck ALWAYS gets
scarce. Little has a death grip on our hearts at this stage of the
Yet amidst all that mental chiding are those boxes.
You know the ones. Dependent upon your allowable space for displaying
precious treasures in your abode, you may or may not have seen these
items in quite awhile.
The contents of those boxes
is sacred. Clinging to each item inside is a story. Wrapped up in
tissue or whatever you've determined worthy to attempt to cushion and
protect are those delicate things you hold dear. You label them FRAGILE
or BREAKABLE or CHINA, or all of the above and hope for the best as you
stand aside and allow those with greater physical strength to load and
unload those things that can so easily shatter upon impact.
you don't realize until you arrive at your new address is how much of
your story and your very self is wrapped up inside those boxes labeled
FRAGILE or BREAKABLE.
I have always taught my children from the time they were very small "people are more important than things." I still believe it to be true.
However, in our hearts are those things.
What I have discovered recently is the broken things in my life are not
just broken things. Through tears I tried valiantly to explain to my
husband how these broken things continue to collide with the brokenness
in my heart.
teapot pictured above is similar and yet so different from my heart of
late. The beauty is still visible to the undiscerning eye. The chip in
its surface is barely visible unless you are really looking for it. I
can and do still display it and enjoy its overall beauty. Unfortunately
though, this teapot is no longer usable in its current state. It has
lost its functionality as a result of its brokenness.
Yet may the state of this particular treasure never characterize
me! May my own usefulness and functionality soar instead of plummet in
the face of my brokenness. May the the beauty in the broken enable me to
be refined and better used by my Savior.
teapot may be broken but its story is still intact. I still know how I
lovingly carried this particular treasure home in my tote from Prince
Edward Island, protecting it with my pregnant self as I lay stranded in
the airport in Chicago.
know how many teas have been taken in this lupin-adorned china. I can
remember my friends and the friends of my girls taking tea. I can see
their faces around the tables in different locations. Sweet fellowship.
Sweet memories. Unspoiled by the brokenness currently a part of this
My story is
far from finished. I may not understand all the reasons for the
hairline cracks and enormous caverns in my heart. I may not receive
answers this side of heaven for why the circumstances and people who
crossed my path shattered me and my sometimes very fragile heart.
What I can be assured of in the midst of my hurt is the presence of a healer.
found a broken teapot. I am broken, but I am still alive for a reason
and able to sing loudly of God's faithfulness in the midst of it all.
See y'all next time!
On His Adventure~