At YoliJwa this past week, my lovely counselor did a devotional where she had us take a clay pot and write the things that hindered us, and held us back from being who we really were, the things that keep us from feeling beautiful as God created us. Then she took us to the fire escape and had us throw them down and shatter them on the ground. A few days later, she constructed the broken pieces of our clay pots into the shape of a crown, in a representation of beauty for ashes in our lives. And this is my poem written about that.
Beautiful,
this molded piece of clay crafted by Hands from above.
Beautiful,
the way it was formed just perfectly.
Stained,
over time these painful truths were etched across the surface of my heart.
Stained,
in permanent ink, the hurt that couldn't be washed away.
Overwhelmed,
These thoughts swirl with confusion around my mind.
Overwhelmed,
The burdens lay restless on the tablet of my heart.
Shattered,
by my own desire or maybe an unfortunate turn of events.
Shattered,
either way the pieces of my molded clay being lie in a heap on the ground.
Broken,
with feelings that none of this could ever turn for good.
Broken,
The lies dance near my heart whispering to just give up on it all.
A promise,
"just wait, only a little longer, this is My covenant."
A promise,
with an impatient longing for the results to play according to my own will.
Beautiful,
the broken pieces that made the clay of who I am dance together in a symphony that promises I am still His.
Beautiful,
We have to be so broken to the point where God's Light can radiate through.
Beautiful,
And with a healed heart, He shines through the beauty of my shattered, stained glass soul.
Beautiful.
