Beyond the Obvious Metaphor

Mosaics are an obvious metaphor for how God uses broken things to make beautiful things. I am keenly aware of it every time I work a piece. How God is conscious to the kind of pieces that belong together and for what purpose. How He sees a greater picture and brings it about. I find it easier to work mosaics in trying times because I tend to turn the shards, fit them, and puzzle them together while I puzzle out thoughts and situations.

So it's not surprising that these would be the result of my couple of weeks of musing.
The shell mirror has been languishing in the gallery for a long time and was actually one of the first things I made. But it had a mirror inside, which got scratched in the process of making it. It was just not a good piece of glass in the first place. So I decided to try something different...I made chalkboard paint with a bit of brown paint left over from my bedroom. I love the way the color brings out the brown and pink in the shells. I then added even more shells to the frame, bulking it up a bit. I'm honestly going to have a hard time parting with this piece, I love it so much. The architecture of the shells is amazing. To think that God would form such homes for the smallest and most unglamorous sea creatures...

I then altered the long wooden tray with a mirror and the remaining shards from the Double Springs Pottery to compliment the other mirror I made last week. It makes me think of rocks in the bottom of a creek, like this painting by local artist George Dombek.

As I pieced things together, I pieced in my mind.

On Monday, I realized that I don't have any emotional baggage. Not that I've had baggage and overcame it. I literally have none. I'm like an emotional albino. I've got nothing. No unkind hand has ever been laid on me. I've been cherished and valued and honored in my formative relationships. Tragedy has gone off like a bomb around me, but never close enough to leave me shell-shocked. The realization had me feeling like
the character in M. Night Shyamalan's Unbreakable who comes to the knowledge that he is a super-hero. It's a kind of guilty, freaktitude. I tried to blog about it then, but I was still staring at the thought, unsure what to make of it.

Simultaneously, I was sifting through the things that have come to my ears this week...much I can't write about, but picture my sister and brother-in-law's adoption tragedy-in-process as the tip of the iceberg. Bombs are going off in the backyards of my friends.

So many broken pieces to turn and puzzle in my mind.

I listened on Tuesday to Rob Bell's continuing Lenten teaching from Lamentations. From the last one I heard, I embraced lamenting for the sadness around me. I embraced just feeling sad and not trying to escape the mourning that is part of being human in a broken world. While listening to this weeks "New Skirts" this teaching, I glued some of the pieces down.

I've confessed in the past to watching Grey's Anatomy. Last season was horrific. It was as if the writers were making bets as to who could throw in the most trash. The overwhelmingly negative response got them back on track this year, bringing back the irony we all liked in the first place. Robb fell asleep before he could render his one allowed "this show is so stupid." It wasn't stupid last night. There were some very redemptive things about it. Namely, that when somebody is hurting, they need love. They need community. The characters in Grey's are flawed and cartoonish at times...it's only TV after all. But the man with half a face is not unlike most people in our churches....they are terribly aware of their deformity and terribly afraid that nobody will love them back to health.

The God-shaped vacuum inside us is sometimes filled with God-shaped people.

I don't have baggage. I've come to believe this week that I don't have it, so I can help other people carry theirs. My husband's comes first. Protecting my kids from acquiring much comes second. And after that, I am free to help you with yours. I want to help you piece it together.