A few years back, I had a dear friend that went through an absolutely horrifying experience when a group of his former friends and colleagues promoted now-proved-totally-wrong accusations against him with no evidence or proof. He was devastated and questioned the foundation of his faith and even the faithfulness of his Lord. I was led to send him the letter below. Feel free to share with those you know who are going through really tough times — or maybe this is for you if you’re going through a really rough patch right now.

Dear, dear friend,

I have tears running down my cheek. Some call the church “the only army that shoots its wounded.” It seems many churchgoers are more interested in a brother or sister’s “fresh blood” than their Lord’s “spilled blood.” And I thought only us old rugby players ate our dead.

I heard a great analogy recently that I thought of when I read your story. Almost none of this is original … just adapted from some wise and previously broken brothers and sisters … who understand we do not have to stay broken:

When a bowl, teapot, or precious vase falls and breaks into pieces, most people just toss them away — sometimes angrily and sometimes regretfully — but thrown away nevertheless — and not thought of again.

Yet there is an alternative … There’s an ancient Japanese art that highlights and enhances the breaks thus actually adding both value and strength to the broken object.

It’s called “kintsugi” (金継ぎ) or “kintsukuroi” (金繕い) which I’m told literally means “golden” (kin) and “repair” or “joinery” (tsugi). So, “golden joinery” or “golden repair.”

This traditional Japanese art uses a precious metal – usually liquid gold or lacquer dusted with powdered gold – to bring together the pieces of a broken pottery item and at the same time enhance and strengthen the breaks.

The technique consists in joining fragments and giving them a new, more refined aspect. Every repaired piece is unique, because of the randomness with which ceramics shatters and the irregular patterns formed that are enhanced with the use of metals.

It’s not an easy process repairing broken pottery. Even today, it may take up to a month to repair the largest and most refined pieces of ceramics with the kintsugi technique, given the different steps and the drying time required.

The kintsugi technique suggests a few things to me:

• We shouldn’t throw away broken objects.
• When an object breaks, it doesn’t mean that it is no more useful. Its breakages can become valuable.
• We should try to repair things because sometimes in doing so we obtain more valuable objects. This is the essence of resilience.
• Each of us should look for a way to cope with traumatic events in a positive way, learn from negative experiences, take the best from them, and convince ourselves that exactly these experiences make each person unique and precious.

Some call this “The Art of Embracing Damage,” while others call it “The Art of Precious Scars.”

Think about some of the cracks and fractures in the lives of the men and women God used throughout the Bible:

• Moses had a speech problem.
• Moses was self-absorbed.
• David was an adulterer and a murderer.
• Samson and Solomon were womanizers.
• Rahab was a liar and a prostitute.
• The Samaritan woman had a whole string of divorces.
• Zacchaeus had engaged in extortion.
• Peter was hotheaded, impulsive, and temperamental.
• Naomi was a bitter widow.
• Elijah was suicidal.
• Leah wasn’t attractive enough.
• Joseph was abused and abandoned.
• Jacob was a liar and a schemer.
• Martha worried about everything.
• Timothy had an ulcer.
• Noah got drunk.
• And we could go on and on and on.

What’s significant is that none of these things defined these people. What defined them was their relationship with God. But what I love about the Bible is that it doesn’t omit their weaknesses and their failures when it describes their victories.

Just like in the art of kintsugi, people with broken pieces weren’t something to be thrown out — they became integral parts of Jesus’ whole redemptive story—one that God gracefully wrote despite their flawed personalities, their broken humanity, and their apparent weaknesses.

The philosophy behind Kintsugi, as I understand it, is to value the brokenness and repair as part of the object’s history, rather than seeing it as something to hide or throw away or disguise. In contrast to Western philosophy which strives for perfection and looks to hide brokenness, Kintsugi acknowledges the brokenness and then pieces it back together into something beautiful.

It strikes me that Jesus is the master of Kintsugi — He knows our brokenness, yet he doesn’t reject us or discard us. Where we see a heap of broken pieces, he sees potential and the possibility of creating something beautiful and new.

He doesn’t want us to hide our brokenness. He wants to heal us in such a way that, while the cracks and scars are still visible, they are not something ugly or shameful. They are part of the beauty.

After all, we who follow Jesus will be able to see and touch His scars. They are a reminder of His pain and suffering, and they are also a reminder that evil does not have the final word. They are a testimony to God’s awesome power.  St Thomas Aquinas wrote, “He kept His scars not from inability to heal them, but to wear them as an everlasting trophy of His victory.”

God takes our broken pieces and puts them back together in a way that displays his glory because it is in the cracks and in the scars that we see evidence of healing and God’s power to restore.

It doesn’t mean that every situation will be restored here on Earth. Some marriages don’t mend, some people never break free from addiction, and there are times when the loss remains, and the healing never comes.

But even then, as Eric Liddell puts it, “God is not helpless among the ruins.”

Ernest Hemingway, wrote, “The world breaks everyone and afterward many are strong in the broken places.”

Although we, when broken, may be very different from our original, God can still make something beautiful.

Thank God that Jesus Christ is the gold that binds us back together. He makes us whole. He restores us. Because of His life, death, and resurrection, our life, death (brokenness), and resurrection gives us the ability to tell His story better.

• A bruised reed He will not break and a dimly burning wick He will not extinguish. – Isaiah 42:3
• The LORD is near to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit. – Psalm 34:18
• He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds. – Psalm 147:3
• … provide for those who grieve…beauty instead of ashes, the oil of joy instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair. – Isaiah 61:3

I’ve learned in my brokenness, that I have to allow Jesus to be the artist and the gold; to both heal me and make me whole. I have to allow Jesus to bind up the brokenness of my life, heal my wounds, and make scars of gold.

To make the broken me stronger and more beautiful than before, not because I am, but because He in me IS.

\I don’t have to walk around with the broken pieces of my life continuing to cut me and others, nor do I have to sweep them under the rug in shame or stoicism.

In Christ, I can have beautiful scars instead of open wounds. He doesn’t just bind me up. He binds me together with the gold that is His life and death and resurrection. I remember Adrian Rodgers saying something like, “Men throw broken things away, but God never uses anything until he first breaks it.” In other words, Christ is building His kingdom with the earth’s broken things. His church is built on He as the rock, the cornerstone, and we the broken are Her foundation.

J. R. Miller said, “Heaven is filling with earth’s broken lives, and there is no bruised reed that Christ cannot take and restore to glorious blessedness and beauty. He can take the life crushed by pain or sorrow and make it into a harp whose music shall be all praise. He can lift earth’s saddest failure up to heaven’s glory.”

A broken bowl holds nothing, but a kintsugi vessel has stunning strength, value, and beauty — and can hold the fullness of the Holy Spirit to shine and splash out to those around us.

And because of who Christ is, and because of His power in our lives, we get to tell a greater story — our story in the context of His Story — with the beauty of brokenness — with imperfections not being something to hide but to put on display when they have been healed by something more valuable than ourselves.

Because of what we have gone through, because of what we have endured, because of brokenness, pain, and being dropped and shattered in life we are now restored because of the gold that is Jesus. We get to tell the story of Jesus in a way that is compelling and convincing because we were broken, and He has restored us.

When people share a scar with us or ask us about a scar we have, we can tell them the story of how God redeemed our brokenness. We can show the beauty of his redemptive and restorative power from those shattered parts of our lives. We can tell them God will mend brokenness, but only if we give Him all the pieces. We can point people to a healer and an artist. We can point them to Kintsugi Jesus.

There is truly a beauty waiting to be discovered when we begin to realize that God is using everything in our lives, including our brokenness, our pain, our failures, our weaknesses, our fractured relationships, our shattered dreams, our disappointments, and our cracked personalities, to bring about a very, very, beautifully redemptive story. He assuredly is making all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose (Ro 8:28 ESV).

We, the cracked pots of the Kingdom, aren’t able to hide the treasure that lies within. Rather, it shines out into a dark and desperate world needing light more than ever. After all, “We have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us. We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed (2 Co 4:7-9 ESV).

Vance Havner wisely wrote, “God uses broken things. It takes broken soil to produce a crop, broken clouds to give rain, broken grain to give bread, [and] broken bread to give strength. It is the broken alabaster box that gives forth perfume. It is Peter, weeping bitterly, who returns to greater power than ever.”

And, Nancy Leigh DeMoss penned, “Jesus said, ‘Blessed are the poor in spirit.’ Contrary to what we would expect, brokenness is the pathway to blessing! There are no alternative routes; there are no shortcuts. The very thing we dread and are tempted to resist is actually the means to God’s greatest blessings in our lives.”

At a moment of great brokenness in my life, my dear friend (a story for another day), another friend shared this poem with me. I hope it’s as meaningful to you as it is to me. It’s called, “The Master’s Vessel:”

The Master was searching for a vessel to use; On the shelf, there were many which one would He choose? 

“Take me”, cried the gold one, “I’m shiny and bright, I’m of great value and I do things just right. My beauty and luster will outshine the rest And for someone like You, Master, gold would be the best!” 

The Master passed on with no word at all; He looked at a silver urn, narrow and tall; “I’ll serve You, dear Master, I’ll pour out Your drink, and I’ll be at Your table whenever You dine, My lines are so graceful, my carvings so true, And my silver will always compliment You.” 

Unheeding the Master passed on to the brass, It was wide-mouthed and shallow, and polished like glass. 

“Here! Here!” cried the vessel, “I know I will do, Place me on Your table for all men to view.” 

“Look at me”, called the goblet of crystal so clear, “My transparency shows my contents so dear, Though fragile am I, I will serve You with pride, And I’m sure I’ll be happy in Your house to abide.” 

The Master came next to a vessel of wood, polished and carved, it solidly stood. 

“You may use me, dear Master”, the wooden bowl said, “But I’d rather You used me for fruit, not for Bread!” 

Then the Master looked down and saw a vessel of clay. Empty and broken it helplessly lay. No hope had the vessel that the Master might choose, To cleanse and make whole, to fill and to use.

“Ah! This is the vessel I’ve been hoping to find, I will mend and use it and make it all Mine.

“I need not the vessel with pride of its self, nor the one who is narrow to sit on the shelf; 

“Nor the one who is big-mouthed and shallow and loud; 

“Nor one who displays his contents so proud; 

“Not the one who thinks he can do all things just right; 

“But this plain earthy vessel filled with My power and might.” 

Then gently He lifted the vessel of clay. Mended and cleansed it and filled it that day. 

He spoke to it kindly: “There’s work you must do. Just pour out to others as I pour into you.”

Sounds like that’s your story, brother. And, I’m honored to be your brother. After all … there is …

Charles Spurgeon may have written this just for us:

I, the preacher of this hour, beg to bear my witness that the worst days I have ever had have turned out to be my best days, and when God has seemed most cruel to me, he has then been most kind. 

If there is anything in this world for which I would bless Him more than for anything else, it is for pain and affliction.  

I am sure that in these things the richest, tenderest love has been manifested to me. 

Our Father’s wagons rumble most heavily when they are bringing us the richest freight of the bullion of His grace. 

Love letters from heaven are often sent in black-edged envelopes. 

The cloud that is black with horror is big with mercy. 

Fear not the storm, it brings healing in its wings, and when Jesus is with you in the vessel the tempest only hastens the ship to its desired haven.

Love you, my dear friend.

Walt

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