Mosaics

I love table tops made from broken pieces of glass, travertine, or pottery of all kinds. I have not made one myself . . . yet. I have saved up some pieces of colored glass. It might be enough for a small table. Who knows?

These works of art are created from shards, scraps, trash actually. Just like an intricate design in a stained glass window, its beauty begins in the mind of the artist.

Mosaics remind me of me. I am broken. Cracked. Smashed beyond repair. After tragedy, one’s life can be consumed by shards of thought and despair. We are all broken in one way or another. Even if your life has been smooth sailing, age has a way of lining our face with the passage of time. Creases come where creases have never been before. We no longer bounce, but break when we fall . . . and possibly can’t get up without help. Yes, life in general shows us our brokenness. It’s all a part of the sin package, thanks to an evil enemy.

Thankfully, the Author of your life and mine is a Designer beyond equal. He picks up the broken pieces of our lives and gently molds them into something beautiful again. Perhaps scars remain in us, as the scars remain in Him ~ His hands, face and side. But I don’t think Him less beautiful for His scars. Actually, I think of Him as more beautiful for how He earned those scars. It was His love for you and me that gave Him His scars. We will carry our scars until life ends, but we will be perfect for heaven. Jesus will always have His scars. A reminder of His sacrifice for sin. Not His sin, but ours.

I am forgotten by them as though I were dead; I have become like broken pottery.  Psalm 31:12

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