Breaking the Bowl

The assignment was to bring a dish to break. We were going to learn the Art of Kintsugi. I wasn’t about to break any of my precious collectibles. I found myself at the local thrift store scanning the shelves to find the perfect dish, settling on a black ceramic bowl. I imagined the broken lines would be beautiful when contrasted with the rich black glass.

I was hesitant to go to the Creative group that night. These women are a lovely group; young, energetic, gifted and talented. Did I say young? I'm much older than these beautiful Spirit filled women! Yet I'm drawn to them. God uses them in my life as they share their stories, their talents.

At last, it was my turn to break my bowl. Holding onto the wrench, I tapped the glass bowl. The bowl appeared intact. No fractures.

I hit it again with a little more strength. Still nothing.

Finally, I took that wrench, determined to break my treasure. I slammed the glass bowl. After all, I HAD to break the bowl to fix it! That final blow shattered the precious bowl into a million pieces! Okay, maybe that’s an exaggeration . . . but to me, it looked hopeless!

I gathered the pieces and joined the others at the long table to start the Kintsugi process. Jonna, one of our leaders, mixed the glue and gold powder. We would take that mixture and paint it onto the broken pieces. But my bowl was a mess, It was difficult to arrange the puzzle pieces to fit the large space that was now empty! Before long, the glue dried up. Needless to say, I left that night with my shattered pieces in a paper bag, some gold powder and a photo of the kit that I would need to order from Amazon!

Disappointed but eager to finish the project, I ordered the kit when I got home that night. However by morning, I lost the ambition to finish. At this point, I have to admit, it was an overwhelming job. That bag sat in my living room for days before I finally put it “away” in my closet.

It would be the Lord who would tell me that it was time to work on the bowl! I lay in bed in the early morning hours, thinking about that broken bowl. I heard the Lord say to me, that I am like that bowl; precious, beautiful in His sight. He led me to take the time to finish the project.

Oh, oh! I think, I hear a lesson coming! Over the next several weeks, God would use that bowl to heal my broken heart.

The Lord told me that those hits were much like the hits that I had taken in recent years. The first hit, losing a best friend to cancer, shook me. How I miss my dear friend, Gayle. She was my confidant, my sister in Christ, a woman of faith. We had shared the last 20 years of life together. But the cancer was aggressive. Her sister and I brought her to a healing service. When the speaker prayed over her, somehow my heart knew we weren't going to see that miracle. She knew it, too. During that time, I would take many long walks, praying for her. Even now, I can hear Gayle's voice from heaven, bragging; “I won! I made it here first” And so she did! But I certainly miss her!

The next blows would come as Covid came on the scene. My dad who had heart issues much of his life, was failing. Between his long suffering and the introduction of Covid, the year had been mixed with unrest. I remember making the choice NOT to leave my parents to suffer alone. With God’s help, I was able to put my faith in Him and continue visiting my parents.They would be spared from Covid! In July of 2020 we learned that dad had stage 4 cancer, too. That was the straw that broke the camel’s back for dad. He had been fighting for so long. Within a short time, mom would watch as dad grabbed hold of the Lord’s hand. In fact, she hadn't realized he passed that morning as she gently washed his face and combed his hair. Another prayer answered! We didn't want her to be alone when he passed. Dad died a few days before my birthday in August of 2020. I miss him.

That blow shook my foundation. But I still held myself together. I worked at a local high school, this would be one of the busiest times of the year. I hit the ground running that fall. Another good friend and co-worker had retired while I was out on leave planning a funeral. I didn’t get to say good-bye. I missed her celebration. Another loss.

I found myself training in her replacement. I continued for months, working hard, trying to do a good job. Trying to stay focused. Trying to keep myself together. Inside, I felt like I was dying.

Much like the third blow to my beautiful bowl. I found myself falling into pieces on the inside, where sadness fills the empty places and weakens our spirits.

The hits kept coming that year with a final blow in June. A series of events found me working in a new place and leaving my “work” home of 23 years. In hindsight, God was in control. He always has been. My work place had become toxic. I only realized that after a good friend sent me an article about workplace toxicity. Even so, change doesn’t always feel good. And it certainly sent my heart through a myriad of emotions.

I take the bowl out of the closet and set up my work station. I try once and realize that my bowl will take more than one night to fix it. Much like my own brokenness. Healing of the heart doesn’t come with a quick fix guide.

Over the next several weeks, I worked on that bowl. I would glue, then 'unglue' when the pieces didn't fit. The pieces and the bowl would be washed with glue remover, soap and water and I would try again. Sometimes the glue would take, other times I would find the pieces had fallen in the night. I would end up with more pieces than I could fit in the empty places.

I decide to watch some videos on this ancient Art of Kintsugi. I learn this process will take time as my bowl had shattered into many pieces. My project did NOT look like those beautiful pieces on the art videos!

This will take patience and perseverance. Time. Energy. Sometimes I will want to give up. I’ll be overwhelmed by all the pieces. I won’t feel like tackling it. I’ll be tempted to bag it up and hide it back in the closet. The pieces won’t match because I’ve added glue to fix the bowl. And some are shattered so small, I have to discard them.

The process was messy. Sometimes I had glue all over my hands and it did NOT want to wash off. I didn’t like it. Much like dealing with my life blows over the past few years, it would be easier to ignore them and blindly move forward. But God is always about the healing!

My granddaughter, Rachel, suggests throwing this bowl away and starting over. My insides scream, NO! It seems the Lord was clear about working on THIS bowl. This bowl would be beautiful again! This is a work of the Lord; and I wasn't going to miss the transforming work that He is doing!

I shared with our creative group about this call to finish this process. Renewing the broken bowl. One of the sweet gals, Courtney, pointed out that my bowl was the black GLASS bowl.

“Oh no! I responded; did I buy the wrong bowl?” As a light bulb formed above my head. I realized I should have bought pottery-NOT glass!

Courtney assured me that it was ok, but she remembers how the glass had shattered.

God even used that conversation in my healing. Driving home I heard the Lord say; “the bowl isn’t wrong, it’s just different. Like you. You ARE different! I created you to be filled with empathy for others. I created you to feel their pain. You cry with my broken ones. You laugh heartily with those who have joy. But you were never meant to carry their pain. When the burden became too much, you shattered. Trust me in the process, I will make all things new.”

So, I didn’t buy the wrong bowl. Because like the bowl, I’m just different. “Eclectic,” my daughter Sarah, suggested. Whimsical dropped into my spirit. I had been disappointed in myself. Feeling as though I didn’t fit in. Thinking that I didn't measure up. When all the time I just needed to accept the person that God created. Me!

Above is a picture of my bowl. I’ve added Scriptures. These particular ones are some of my “go to” verses. Psalms 121; “I lift up mine eyes to the hills, and I wonder from where comes my help.” Scripture has helped me through my most difficult times.

The broken places are large, but they have been refined by the Lord and filled with gold. Not real gold on the black bowl but certainly the Lord has filled my heart with His measure of gold.

Underneath my bowl looks messy because I can be messy. I am reminded that this is not our home, and life can be is messy but God makes all things beautiful. And only He can work all things together for good for those who love Him and are called according to His purpose!

Inside the bowl I've place some precious pieces of life. A Sword to represent my dependence on the Word of God; a cross; Jesus has already paid the price, a broken lanyard that Gayle made for me before she “won” the race to heaven! A heart for my dad and other loved ones who’ve gone before me, praying hands because prayer makes a difference! An American flag because I live in the greatest country of the world! An ‘I choose’ magnet, because I choose life! A pin that has a music note with a message; “Jesus writes the song; my heart sings the melody,” because I love to sing His praises. Broken pieces of the bowl, edged with gold, to represent that Jesus is still working on me!

Through this process, God is healing my heart. He’s filled those empty places, replaced the lies that satan tried to use against me. He speaks His precious words into my heart. How precious I am, to be called a child of God!!! I love how the Lord pursues his child!

Dear Lord, Thank you for caring enough to call me to a work of heart healing! You are the best teacher there is! May you continue to transform my hearts that I would serve you! In Jesus' name, we pray. Amen.