cracked

Last week I found myself in a book. More specifically, I discovered the wording for the way I have felt for a very long time, about 8 months, in a book. It's a line from a book called Behind the Beautiful Forevers by Katherine Boo, and the line says, "She has a crack in her-- she's cracked, you know this." 

I sat and stared at that line, stunned by the depth of connection I felt with it. I have had such a hard time putting into words (and have struggled with whether I even should try, if I had a right to) the ways I have been feeling since January. But finally, there it is....

cracked

That's exactly how I feel. I'm not going to get into the why's and how's and what's, although I do think I have some logical answers for it. Those things don't matter in this forum, at least not right now.

What matters is the relief I felt in finally having a word to connect to it and then what I discovered as I did some digging into that word. See, I can't change how I feel. I can't fix what is breaking me because, honestly, I don't even know for sure what it is. But I can find some peace in defining my condition.

I'm cracked. I'm not broken apart, I'm not shattered beyond repair, I'm not destroyed. I'm cracked.

And the thing about being cracked is that, while you aren't any of the things listed above, nor are you whole. For that matter, nor will you ever be, at least not the way you once were. So I need to find ways to bear with my cracked-ness. Ways to strengthen my weakness.

So I started doing some reading and research on being cracked.

The first thing I found is a parable that was credited to several original sources, but the site I found it on was a Jewish parables and fables site. The basic story is that a woman had two water cans that were attached to a yoke. Every day, she carried that yoke down to the river and filled the cans, walking back to her hut. The whole can was always full when she got home, but the cracked can was always nearly empty. The cracked can always felt less than in comparison to the whole can. One day, he apologized to the woman for being defective. The woman smiled and said, "Did you think I didn't know that you had a crack and water dripped from you? Look at the path from the river to my hut. Do you see all the beautiful flowers that are growing on that side of the path? Those are the flowers I planted there, the flowers that you watered every day as I walked home from the river."

I then did some reading on Kintsugi, the art form in Japan that restores cracked vessels with gold, leaving the piece more beautiful than it started out. The word means "golden joinery". The idea behind it is not to hide the ugliness and brokenness, but to use gold to make it shine and illuminate and expose the damage. The piece, at the end of the process, is even more beautiful for having been damaged.

Finally, I started digging around in the Bible about what the Lord has to say about broken vessels. There are so many references to potters and clay, vessels and oil, torches and vessels. From Elisha to Gideon to God and Adam, the overall message the Bible makes in reference to cracked pots is that cracked pots aren't unusable to Him. Instead, they are beautiful and they are often how the light inside is revealed.




I'm not feeling all shored up with gold tonight. I'm not sure that it's been His light that has been shining through my cracks. I'm doubtful that any flowers have been watered as a result of my weakness. But I'm feeling thankful for it to have a name. I'm feeling hopeful that, one day soon, my cracked-ness will have a purpose.