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.

Dear Charisa: A Letter to Myself on Fatherlessness and Marriage

Dear Charisa,

You are about to enter one of the most important parts of your life: being married to Steve. I know you've already practiced writing "Mrs. Charisa C. Martin" in your prettiest cursive, and your friends and family have blessed your socks off buying things from your wedding registry. Still though, you need to know that you are in for a surprise about marriage.

Young one, you've spent the last 11 years of your life without a Daddy. You've gotten comfortable having a single Mom, and now that you're getting married, you think that Steve will heal that Daddy wound that fatherlessness has left inside your heart. I want to tell you that you're right, but to be honest, you're wrong. You are placing your hope in the wrong man. It's true that his love will be the perfect place for you to heal from fatherlessness, but it isn't the cure. In fact, there will be times when your husband's loving presence will remind you of just how big the hole is. Steve is your husband, not your father. He will love you in ways you never dreamed- ways that wreck you and make you wonder how anyone could love you that much. But even he knows that he isn't the answer. Much like Sam told Frodo in Lord of the Rings that he couldn't carry the ring weighing Frodo down, but that he could carry him, he will mirror that same faithfulness to you. He can't fix your fatherlessness, but he can carry you to the One who can fix it.

You see, Charisa, it's within the context of marriage that God will heal your broken heart. He won't erase the memories, He'll join you in them. And He will give you Steve to accompany you in this journey. God will show you the silver lining of every cloud you take into this relationship. He'll use Steve to show you that healing takes time, and grace, and love. 

The very first time Steve laid eyes on you, he was drawn to you- but not in the way you think. You see when he saw you, and asked around about you, someone told him that you were from a single Mom's home. That's when the Holy Spirit whispered to his heart, "Pray for her. Earnestly." And he did. His last girlfriend was in the same boat as you- trying to go through life with a gaping hole in her heart. That was no coincidence. His witnessing of her pain helped him better understand yours. He knew just how to pray, because the last one who broke his heart had a broken heart herself. Little did he know that he was praying for his future wife; he was interceding for the one who would one day be his. His prayers are the catalyst that will slowly, steadily begin your healing.

After you get married, there will be times when you'll have conflict. Every couple does. And there will be times where that conflict, much like a spoon, will stir up the liquid feelings that you have, and the dregs of your brokenness will float to the surface. In the swirling confusion, you'll look at Steve's face, and see your Dad's. You'll get angry, and scream at him, "You're JUST like my father!" Your words will sting his heart. And yet deep down inside, you know that it's not true. He's nothing like your Dad. In fact, what your heart will really be crying out is, "This conflict makes my Daddy wound ache!" You'll want to be loved. And God will give Steve the grace to love you; to push down your guard and say in a healing whisper, "I'm not your Dad." He'll hold you, and you'll wonder where his love comes from- and how you'll ever be made whole. The answer to both is simple: God.

Your healing won't be a one time event. Your healing won't be without pain or tears. Your healing won't be easy. In fact, it will resemble childbirth. There will be pain. There will be moments of wondering when the agony will end. You will be tempted to give up. You will be stretched. When the mundane unexpectedly triggers a floodgate of painful memories, don't run. Don't push it back down.  Just know that the healing being birthed in you will be stunningly beautiful. When God crawls into the memories of your pain and shows you He was there with you, you'll see a new side of Him that you never knew existed. And Steve will, like a labor coach, give you support and encouragement. I know you know this, but you have a good man. A good, GOOD man. 

But even a good, GOOD man is no substitute for a God who loves you. Trust Him in those dark valleys. Take as many healing pit stops as you need. Every flare up of pain is God telling you it's time for another layer. His timing is impeccable. His ways higher than yours, and His thoughts above your thoughts. Every girl needs a Daddy. And since you have a void, let God fill and keep filling it like no earthly father, husband, friend, or anything else could. You'll doubt He can, but then again, you've never really let Him. He's never left you, and He's not about to start now. You're about to enter a wild adventure, so buckle up. Get ready to be loved like you never dreamed possible- by Steve, and by God.

And so, although marriage won't fix your fatherlessness, bank on the fact that God is able to make all things new. He can restore, redeem, and revive every broken shard of your heart. Don't be afraid. Take courage. The strength about to be built in you will surpass any amount of pain you feel. I know this because I have a gift that you don't have yet- hindsight, which helps me see more clearly than you can right now. Cling to the hope that you can be restored. Trust the Father in the process. And hang on tight to that hunk of yours. He's a keeper.

Finding the Gifts In Pain

For the past few days, I've been laid up with a lower back ache of the yucky variety. It feels like my lower spine is being gripped by a vice, and every once in a while a fiery electricity shoots through my muscles. I'm a firm believer that people need more than one best friend, and this week has convinced me I'm right. Since Saturday, my three best friends have been Bayer Back and Body, a microwavable sac of corn, and lots of rest.

Pain is a part of life. It's impossible to escape. I admit that I hate it. But I also acknowledge that I have an easier grasp on pain if there's a purpose behind it. For instance, if I'm in the gym, taxing and maxing out my muscles in a marathon squat, pain is my body's way of saying, "You're changing the shape of your muscle! Embrace the burn!" Actually, that sounds more like what my instructors say. And when on four occasions in my life, I found myself in a hospital, belly burgeoning with life wanting to escape, pain told me, "Hang on- just getting you one step closer to becoming a Mom!" I get that. I understand that there is a purpose to those types of pain. This back pain though, I don't get it. There's a lot about pain that I can't swallow. I would be able to with the promise of a purpose, but without that, pain seems pointless. What does a bad back, or pain in life, have to do with anything good? If I look hard enough into the cloud of that question, I am able to find a silver lining. 

My back pain has demanded that I make some major adjustments to the way I go about life. I have to be intentional about every movement, and every position. In other words, pain has caused me to slow down. I'm used to a certain pace of life with taxiing my kids to and from school, going to the gym, running errands, keeping the house...well...kept up- it's all a part of what my life looks like. This pain though, has put the brakes on a lot of that activity. I have had to slow down my pace, decrease the miles per hour on the sometimes frantic treadmill of life, and slow down my expectations. Pain causes us to pause more, to reevaluate what is truly necessary, and to funnel our energies into  more narrow, purposeful living. Suddenly the things that I thought I had to do became things that I had to put off for another less pain filled day. And I had to learn to be OK with that. 

Pain has also made me more sensitive to the pain others have endured. As I laid down on my bed with a hot pack on my back, my mind went to my friend Jillian's sweet Mom, Diane. Diane went home to be with Jesus back in November, and watching Jillian move through the stages of grief at a distance has been both heart-breaking and inspiring. I remember before Diane was diagnosed with cancer, that she experienced unbearable back pain. I know for a fact that what I feel doesn't even come close to the pain she felt. I can't imagine. And yet through that excruciating pain, I saw in her the love of Jesus, in the most fiery trial of her life. This pain reminds me that there are others in my life who are in a world of pain. A pain free back would desensitize me to the pain all around me, but every time I ache, I remember to pray for those who are in agony of body, spirit, soul, or emotions. Which brings me to unwrap the next gift of pain: perspective.

In my haste in life, sometimes I go after the seemingly urgent, and skip over the eternal. Pain is reminding me what is really important in my life. Usually when I pick up my 6 year old, Janessa, from kindergarten, once she's buckled in, we take off for home. But every once in a while when she has something important to tell or show me, she asks me to pull over and stop before we head home so she can chat with me. On one of the worst days of my pain, she climbed in the van and said, "Mom! I have something to show you! Can you pull over?" After I stopped the car, she pulled out a picture she had colored in class. It was a black sheep. "Aww!" I exclaimed. "Janessa, it's beautiful!" "But Mom, that's not all! Flip it over." I flipped it over and saw that she had hand drawn a picture of a shepherd with a crook. "See that shepherd?" she gushed, "I drew him so he could take care of the sheep." Instantly, as my back ached from sitting in the van so long, I remembered that my Good Shepherd was taking care of me, His sheep. And I was reminded that in my moment of weakness, that He was even more so tenderly, and gently caring for me, as I attempted to care for my husband and kids. Pain brings perspective because it reminds me that I'm not operating in my own strength. A healthy back would make it easy to forget, but a back wracked with pain is a tangible reminder that I need His help with every step, every stretch, and every bend. My weakness is the perfect platform for His strength to take center stage. My frailty stands in perfect contrast to His mighty power. My pain wrings me out of myself, and lets me soak up more of my Creator's strength. 

Slowing down. Sensitivity. Perspective. These are just some of the gifts of pain. I wouldn't wish pain on anyone. I wish there was a way we could escape it. But since we know there isn't a way, we have to ask ourselves, are there gifts in pain that I haven't explored? Am I emerging from this tight place a changed individual? Are there more people that I'll be able to understand because I've been through this? If so, you have discovered the gifts of pain. And as the old adage says, "no pain, no gain."

Hands **And Giveaway!**

A riddle: what is something you use every day, all day long that is most likely under appreciated? Answer: your hands. I'm staring at mine as I furiously press the keys of my laptop, and I'm marveling at how little I think about them. All I'm focusing on is words on the screen. If I was to think about what my hands did today, the list would include:

• wash dishes
•  play Uno Attack with Grant (my 7 year old)
•  pat Lucy (my Boston Terrier)
• text
• throw wet clothes in the drier

And to be completely honest? I didn't think of my hands ONCE while doing all that. Not once. It's like my hands are a tool that I use. All I'm focused on is the stuff I'm getting done, and not necessarily the tool I used to do it all. 

As I stare at my hands, I realize that they tell a story. My skin is a little dry, which says that I've done  a whole lot of hand washing and not so much moisturizing. There's two rings on my left ring finger- both given to me by the love of my life, Steve. My hands have changed thousands of diapers, played keys on a piano, and placed bandages on cuts and scrapes. My hands have been the launching pad for blown kisses, and flailed all around during a conversation (if you know me, I talk with my hands). But the one thing that I love most about my hands is that they have the power to touch.

 

My heart is tucked safely in my chest- and it is filled with lots of love. But if I follow the path of my heart to my shoulder, my upper arm, my elbow, and my lower arm, the end of that path is- yes, you guessed it- my hand. Your hand is an extension of your heart. The power of words is incredible; the power of touch is indelible. Ever have someone wipe a tear from your face with their thumb? Or place their hand on your back to show support? Or even give you a congratulatory fist bump? You can't put words to that. Talking to someone means you respect them; touching someone means you care.

Look at all the examples in God's word about the times that Jesus reached out his toughened carpenter hands and gave a tender touch to humanity. He touched the eyes of the blind and healed them. He touched the hand of Peter's mother in law and healed her fever. He touched leprosy ravaged skin and made it completely whole. He touched a coffin and brought a dead man to life. It strikes a chord with me, because Jesus could have done all these things with a word. A word would have been enough. But He chose to couple His word with His touch. Perhaps to show us how He wants us to use our hands, or perhaps He wanted to connect with those He was healing. Or further still, He was showing us that the great big God of the universe wanted to be that close to the people He set His affection on. 

Look down at your hands. They are tools in the hands of God to show love through touch. Who under your roof needs to be tangibly reminded that you love them? Which one of your friends could use a hug? Technology and social media might be giants, but the most powerful  connection to reach the world happens to be at the end of your wrists. As the old song "Take My Life And Let It Be" echoes, let God take your hands, big or small, moisturized or chapped, weathered or smooth, and allow them to move at the impulse of His love. This world needs it desperately- and you have just the tools to do it.

Believe it or not, this is my tenth blog post in Tea With a Slice of Life! To celebrate this milestone, I'm doing a giveaway of a beautiful Jamberry nail wrap called "Cup of Tea"- how fitting! 

Photo Credit: Pinterest

Isn't it cute-i-ful (cute + beautiful)? And a big thank you to my dear friend Christy Ayers of Jamberry for the sweet score! Visit her jamberry page at www.christymayers.jamberrynails.net to see more beautiful ways you can decorate the tips of your hands ;) Are you a guy? Perfect! Sign up to win this for the lady in your life for Valentine's Day, her birthday, or just because! Are you a lady? Fantastic! This is a way to have springtime appear on your fingertips long before it appears outside ;) 

For how to enter, comment on this blog post (there's a comment spot underneath the raffle) which of the colors of this nail wrap is your favorite- white or black. For more points and a bigger chance to win, share Tea With A Slice of Life's facebook page on your wall, then head over to the Tea With A Slice of Life's facebook page and write "I shared the love" on the wall so I know you did it. Again, thank you for reading with an open heart, spending time at the table with me, and for being such an encouragement. I appreciate you more than you know. 

Many Blessings,

Charisa

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