Just now I accidentally dropped my mom's coffee mug... the only one of that size that fits our particular coffeemaker because it's smaller than most mugs. It made me so, so sad because the visual of it just falling from the dishrack onto the floor, and shambling into so many little pieces made me think of my own life. Yesterday in the morning I felt very anxious, and today I woke up feeling a little lost. Maybe I am holding this coffee cup, the one I am familiar with and the one into which God pours His "coffee" for me every day. But the shattering of the cup is symbolic of the shattering of the world that is familiar and comfortable to me, and in my anxieties about transitioning into the "real world," moving once again, and needing to reestablish community, it means it's time for change, yet again. Change is inexplicably difficult for me, which is such a paradox because the Christian life is all about change and daily transformation. As I vaccuumed up the smaller pieces, I was grieving the loss of this coffee mug and how it was broken, swept up, and gone forever. But in that moment I felt God speaking to my heart... that yes, I am this broken coffee mug, shattered into a million tiny pieces, but that God was collecting the pieces and somehow gluing it into this mosiac, incorporating it into His masterpiece. It might not look like anything except for a bunch of now-useless ceramic, but our God is a God who redeems and makes new, who uses our brokeness for His purposes.
Only God would be able to use broken things and make them beautiful.
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