Just now I was reading a blog and the author was talking about all the things she has in her house that have been handed down in her family. She said that when she was younger she didn’t want anything from her family, she wanted to create her own style, but now almost everything in her home is something that has been passed down from her family. She said that now she is much quicker to repair something because “the cracks are just memories”.
I immediately started thinking of myself as a tea cup (I guess because of that story where Jesus talks about how you must wash the inside of the cup, then the outside will also be clean). When I was a baby tea cup, I was so new, clean and delicate. But as time went on, I became chipped and sometimes even broken, through different moves or other people not being gentle with me, or me simply making myself fall off the shelf.
But God has glued me back together and said, “You are worthy. I want to keep you around. Let’s fix you up and keep going.”
My cracks are reminders of the hard times that I’ve been through; a reminder of the hard times I’ve over come. Some are from good times that got a little carried away. They each have a story, a memory, that I pass on.