I read this earlier in the week:
Perfect spaces, perfect people, perfect things – they are not real to me. Add a little wonkiness to a house, some mess to the waves of someone’s hair or a few tell-tale signs of age on items and they become more interesting to me. And usually more beautiful. Recently I read about Kintsugi – a Japanese art form that sees damaged items repaired with gold (or silver). Rather than throw away broken crockery or smooth over cracks in rendered walls, the imperfections are highlighted with gold leaf and sealed with lacquer, creating an interesting feature of a home or allowing a favourite plate to continue dishing out your meals – with a little bling on the side. The method humanises things – giving them some attention, patching them up and letting them continue on their merry way rather than just giving up on them at the first sign of a breakdown. It’s giving even the most ho-hum items a history, a story and a chance to shine. The Happy Home
Now thats a language I understand.
One of reclamation and second chances and never too broken.
For the least of, the worn out, the flawed, the done in.
All of us a bit dinged up with our chippy edges and bits worn thin. Even cracked right through in places. Its why He came.
And of course we think it puts us out of the game, one to be kept for sentiment but of no real use, too damaged, not worth it, the fault lines too deep.
Except that they make room for gold.
And they leave room for redemption.
They make space for the transformative to happen, right there where the damage is.
In the ravine a reworking of our hearts, a different story – a richer one, increase in the place we feel empty, filled – not thrown out.
“Courage usually shows up in the cracks” Micha Boyett
The cracks are where the grace gets in.
Where courage rises.
Where mercy does its work.
I know – we want to show our smooth undamaged side to each other (but I’m not sure I have one anymore).
And truly the best bit is our own unique shape – of imperfection and redemption and coming back from the brink all bumpy with scar lines but woven in with gold.
That’s a story I want to hear, that’s the bit that shines, that has the power to connect hearts.
I’ll leave you with this:
Lets not hide ourselves away for want of perfection.
The real us, the real story ——- that’s where there’s gold.
Love to you all today