made whole

My husband is a fabulous gift giver.

He listens to little things I say in passing all throughout the year.
And he records them in a journal which serves as his list of gift ideas.

At one point, I said I'd like to get a pretty set of mixing bowls: 
bowls that were pretty enough to go from microwave to table.

He heard my desire.
He recorded it in his little book.
And he made it happen.
On my last birthday,
I discovered a gorgeous set of nesting mixing bowls in my cupboard.
I love them,
not only because they're just what I'd wanted,
but because he searched near and far to make them a reality.
He listened to me.  He heard me.
He loves me so good.

This morning I was loading the dishwasher.
[You can see it coming, can't you?]
The smallest of the bowls---my favorite off-white---
slipped out of my clumsy hands
and went crashing to the floor.

I know, I know.
It's just a bowl.
Just a thing.
But I was crushed.
As I crumbled among the shards of my once beautiful bowl on my kitchen floor,
my heart seemed to mirror those broken, shattered pieces.

After what I'm sure was a pathetic-sounding voicemail to my husband,
I moved onward through my morning.
And though I was woefully sad about my broken mess,
God began to speak gently to my heart.
It's only a bowl, right?
Yes, but it's a picture of so much more.

This beautiful bowl, so intricately designed.
Its detail, exquisite.
I loved it and treasured it
simply because it was mine.

When it lay broken in pieces,
when it seemed worthless and
all together useless,
the one who loved it and treasured it
lovingly gathered up the scattered pieces
and painstakingly set about putting them together again.
There was vision of what could be;
knowledge that brokenness does not mean uselessness.

And I'm faithfully reminded that the gracious God of the universe loves me,
not based upon performance, but simply because I'm His.
This God sees the broken pieces of my life,
finding me where I was lost,
cleansing me where I was filthy,
bringing wholeness where there was brokenness,
pardon where there was sin.

And this beautiful broken mess of a bowl
now serves as a poignant reminder of that beautiful truth.
I'm scooped up.
Restored.
Made whole.
Redeemed.