The Scars of Healing

"Maybe it's a better thing, a better thing
To be more than merely innocent
But to be broken, and redeemed by love."

- Andrew Peterson, Don't You Want to Thank Someone For This


The Japanese art of kintsugi is a way of mending broken pottery that draws attention to the cracks in the dish, often highlighting them in gold or silver. 

Kintsugi pottery is beautiful. The shining lines spider through the bowl, standing out from the porcelain or clay. Many have spoken of this art as being a metaphor—how instead of hiding the cracks, the potter draws attention to them, and the bowl is made more beautiful for it. 

It's easy to think of our scars as evidence that we're weak. And we are. But the conclusion we often draw is that we're worthless—and we're not. 

Mistakes do not mean that we're worthless. 

And highlighting the mistakes can make God's work in us more beautiful.

 

It's tempting to hide your failure, whenever it inevitably occurs. 

Sin is ugly. It's a crack in the beautiful, smooth surface of the china. Nobody should see it—it's easier to hide it, repent privately, and move on like it never happened. 

But this doesn't work for long. You can't hide sin; you can't hide the truth. It'll come out eventually. 

And trying to hide it will only make it worse. 

What if, instead of keeping all our sins hidden behind a facade of "good Christianity," we admitted our struggles? What if we accepted our mistakes, and stopped trying to pretend we were perfect?

Maybe, then, would we finally be able to move past it? 

Repainting our cracks in gold can't be done alone. We've got to admit that the crack is there before it's fixed—and in kintsugi mending, the repaired pottery is strong. 

Asking for help when you need it will benefit you. Even though you're afraid of what they'll say, of how they'll feel when they realize how broken you really are—the church is your family in Christ, and family should stick together. They'll support you. They'll pray for you. They'll love you. 

And someday, your cracks will be repaired.
 

 

The cracks in a kintsugi bowl are the most beautiful part of the piece. The method transforms it into art, and the work of the master potter glorifes the broken bowl into something better than it was before. 

Paul writes of a trial he'd gone through in 2 Corinthians 12. He calls it a "thorn in my flesh," something that caused him pain over and over again, and something that wasn't going away. 

He says that he prayed to God to take it away. However, he continues: "But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me." (2 Corinthians 12:9) 

The grace of God led Paul to boast in his weaknesses, because in them God's power is made perfect—isn't that beautiful? 

Paul's weaknesses were not something he hid. No, he wrote about them in a very public letter to the Corinthian church, a letter that he knew they were going to share with the other churches elsewhere. 

And he spoke of them boastfully. Because through them, God's power was shown. 

 

God repairs us, and he repairs us well. But why do we need repairing? 

Or, let me phrase it another way: why doesn't God just keep us from breaking in the first place? 

I've wished that I wasn't weak. If I didn't have these flaws, these scars that mark me as a failure, I would be a much more effective servant of Christ. With all Paul accomplished, he might have done more if not for the thorn in his side. Right? So why does God let us crack?

It's easy to think this way. But it's just not true. 

Being broken and repaired shows God's glory far more than it would if we never were broken at all. Clay is not strong. But clay repaired with lacquer and gold is strong, at least on the seams—and it's a whole lot prettier. 

Andrew Peterson sings in the song Don't You Want to Thank Someone For This that it might be better that we were broken and repaired, instead of never having known sin. 

I agree. What would we care for perfection if we never knew anything else? 

We strive to be strong because we know what it's like to be weak. And because we've been broken, God can display his beautiful artistry in us by mending our cracks. 

I am a jar of clay. I have been chipped at and cracked, but I want to hold the treasure that God gives. 

And because he mends me, I can.