Angi Aymond

Growing up, we had no china cabinet. Because we had no china. Heck, I’m not sure we had two matching plates.

But a few years after I got married, I decided I should have some china. So, I went to my local Winn Dixie, where, with each purchase, you could buy a piece or two. Eventually, I accumulated a full set. It wasn’t fine china, mind you. But this girl had some fancy dishes of her own. Even if they did come from Winn Dixie.

Stacked carefully on the shelves behind wooden cabinet doors, my china was cherished. Never used. But loved just the same.

In due time, I pulled those prized pieces off the shelves and placed them ever so carefully into moving boxes. Protected by bubble wrap, the china traveled well. After twenty years and four moves, not a piece was broken.

But I was.

And I don’t mean chipped. Or cracked.

It wasn’t an overnight revelation. In fact, I would have denied it had you asked me about it. But a broken vessel cannot hide its brokenness forever, no matter how hard it tries.

No matter how hard I tried.

I loved Jesus. I taught about the love of Jesus. I sang about the love of Jesus.

But on the inside, I was pretty sure I mostly disappointed Jesus.

To overcome His displeasure, I worked hard to hide the broken parts of me. Service was my super glue. Ever so unconsciously, I believed surely I could serve my way out of my brokenness. And boy, did I serve.

But a slow drip of shame followed me. Until I finally shattered. And my shatter led to my surrender. A full surrender of my greatest regrets and my painful past. Guilt that belonged to me, and shame that didn’t. A surrender of my scars. A willingness to let others see the worst. The hardest.

For years, I struggled to stay ahead of my scars. To maintain an image. Convincing myself I was protecting my image for the sake of my witness. But the only image God was interested in maintaining was His image in me.

And if I was going to reflect His image to others, my own image had to shatter.

You may know that Kintsugi is the Japanese art of repairing — restoring — broken pottery by mending the broken areas with lacquer mixed with gold. It’s the art of embracing the damage. Highlighting, not hiding the scars.

Just what God did with me. Within me.

To be honest, though I had surrendered my scars, I wanted God to put me back together in a way that hid them. But His gentle hand did otherwise.

God filled all of my broken places with Himself. He is the gold that is ‘holding’ me together. Through my deepest scars, His love is on display. A reminder of His grace, in which I am not only free to walk, but compelled to extend to others as well.

¹⁶ But I received mercy for this reason, so that in me, the worst of them, Christ Jesus might demonstrate his extraordinary patience as an example to those who would believe in him for eternal life. 

1 TIMOTHY 1, CSB

Yes. I would prefer an unbroken past. An unbroken life. Like my un-fine china that’s in a box.

But Jesus doesn’t want me in a box. His plans for me do not include my living in a box. He loves me too much.

Oh, yes. There are days when I hear the enemy of my heart suggest that I stay tucked away in a box. Or in the back corner of a china cabinet.

But if Jesus had a china cabinet, I choose to believe that He’d put me front and center with my scars shining for all to see His radical love through me.

For everyone to see Him in me.

⁶ I am sure of this, that he who started a good work in you^[b] will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus. 

PHILIPPIANS 1, CSB

What about you, friend? Are you cracked. Shattered? Are you carrying broken pieces of your heart or life.

God loves you. Don’t resist His love for you. Let Him love you lavishly. And when you can sit in that place of deep, transcending love, you can surrender your deepest hurt. The pain that found you. The pain you marched right toward. Give Him all the pieces.

Let Him forgive you, heal you, and create in you a beautiful work of art through which His love shines.