From Broken to Kintsugi

I came across a beautiful form of Japanese art last week. It's called Kintsugi, or Japanese golden repair. 

 I was fascinated by the back story behind this: the Japanese would take broken pottery, and try to repair it with metal staples. As you can imagine, it added a "Frankenstein-esque" quality to the beautiful pottery, and the Japanese decided to find a way to fix the cracks in a way that was more aesthetically pleasing. They came up with Kintsugi, which is when they add gold, silver or platinum dust to lacquer, and use it to fuse the broken pieces together. As you can imagine, each break increases the value of the piece, since more gold dust has to be added to repair the breaks. The philosophy behind this art form is simple and yet profound: that the cracks in the pottery can be made into an event in the life of the pottery, instead of ending its life, and that the usefulness of the pottery can be extended. 

BROKEN

We're all broken in some way. I remember when I realized my brokenness, whether it was the divorce of my parents at the age of 8, the fatherlessness I experienced, the insecurity of my appearance, or the rejection of my peers, I knew I was broken. There seems to be a space for the enemy's voice to slither into when we experience brokenness: that the best thing we can do is hide. Hide the pain, hide in shame, hide the humiliation. He introduces the lie that when others know about our brokenness, they'll cast us aside. I mean, "Who would want to be your friend if they knew THAT?" Life leaves plenty of room to be broken- whether it's through our own choices, or being at the mercy of someone else's. What I realized is that hiding brokenness only makes it worse. The truth is that we are fragile enough to be broken. The truth is that everyone is broken is some way, shape or form. The truth is that you are broken. What is worse than trying to hide all that by turning the vases of our lives so the unflawed part is the only part that shows?

EMBRACED

The kintsugi artisans do something that some people find irrational: they embrace the brokenness of the pieces they are trying to repair. Why? Because they see potential in those broken places. It's soul stirringly beautiful to imagine a group of people who clutch those precious broken pieces not as items to be thrown away, but as a canvas of redemption. I've broken things, and thought that was the end. Last week, I accidentally dropped a ceramic bowl on my countertop, and watched it shatter. I winced, and let the reality set in- the life of this bowl was over. I'm so glad that God doesn't see our brokenness like I saw that bowl. You see, God winced when He saw sin invade His perfect world- maiming His creation, polluting the relationship with His kids, breaking what was never meant to be broken. However, He didn't let that be the end. He became one of us. The Sovereign God, immortal, clothed Himself with mortality. He allowed Himself to be broken. He took that on, so that when we are broken, He can look at us and say, "I get it. I was broken. I've had the weight of sin shatter my heart too. And I know just how to pray for you." There's a comfort in knowing that God loves us. But there's a deeper comfort in knowing that He too has scars. He too was broken. And with those nail scarred hands, He embraces us with a deeper love and understanding than we know. He never throws away those who are broken. He embraces us.

REPAIRED

Brokenness is not the end. In fact, in the hands of an Almighty God, brokenness is the beginning of being repaired. I never imagined that the brokenness I tried to hide would one day be a gilded seam, pointing to the craftsmanship of an all powerful Creator. I could have never dreamed that my weakest flaws would be repaired so that they would one day be what God's strength would rest on. I only knew how to be and stay broken. But God knows how to weld broken shards together. God can take the cracks that we try to hide, and make them so that they are so beautiful, that we can't help but show off His healing work. And the healing doesn't stop there. When we see the divine craftsmanship in each other's life, we can be encouraged. We can be inspired. We can be empowered. We can feast our eyes on every repaired and strengthened seam, and say with confidence, "If God can do that in your life, I believe He can do that in mine." 

Maybe your brokenness is so deep that the fractures you've sustained have left you unrecognizable. Maybe you think all your usefulness has past, and that you are doomed to a life of irreparable existence. The best thing that you can do is hand over the dustpan containing the last bits of your heart to the artisan of your soul. He is asking you to trust Him. Will you trust Him to use His healing, golden lacquer to put you together again, piece by piece? Will you trust Him to complete the process? Will you trust Him that the end product will be for your good and His glory? Will you trust Him that your brokenness is not the end, and that He will turn your sordid shame into a shining showcase? There are many who practice kintsugi, but only One who mends broken hearts, broken spirits, and broken minds. If the vision of these artists is carried out in a beautiful piece of art, imagine God's vision for your broken self. Let the Artist do His best work. Let Him seal your broken pieces. And let the world see just how beautiful of a masterpiece you are. You can boast in your brokenness when you let God shine through your shards.