Anticipation… hope, excitement, expectancy, planning, joy. Anticipation denotatively means “the feeling of looking forward, usually excitedly or eagerly, to something that is going to happen.” Just like the Japanese art of kintsugi, the object of desire—the object of anticipation—is shattered, seemingly irreparable. Perhaps the damage was done knowingly—purposefully. Often, however, it appears to completely chance, completely random and meaningless.
As the object of anticipation is in pieces, we have a choice. Do we throw it away? Do we give it up—the hope, the symbolism, the joy? Or, do we begin the process of reforming it? The pieces must be assessed. The pieces may be jagged and cracking. They be slivered and scattered. Some may need to be smoothed. Some may not be reusable; once assessed, they may need to left out of the renewal project. Each piece is painstakingly touched, restored, or lovingly removed. Yet, in the hands of a Master, in the heart of the Creator, something beautiful is designed.
The pieces will not, ever, fit back together exactly as they once did. Something has been lost, fragments of dust even, but a loss has occurred. The Master recognizes this loss, acknowledges this loss, and must gently and painstakingly make a filling that is specific and unique to the missing fragment or space. The object of anticipation is not, will never be, the same again. But, the beauty in the acknowledgment. The beauty in the change of anticipation. The beauty in the process of recreating. They are all so valuable to the Master and to the piece now recreated.
Anyone who has the opportunity to touch this piece knows that they hold something thoroughly and meticulously touched by the Master who thought of every line, every edge, every angle, and every depth of filling, every width of space… He has touched and detailed it all.
As time moves on, it may appear that more and more is repaired, yet, the reality is that the pain, the grief, the missing pieces, will be missing forever. The perspective or aspect might change, but the loss never will, and, thankfully, neither will the love the Creator!
Five years ago today my object of anticipation—the expectation of a sweet new life in our family—also included many “negative” anticipations… fear, dread, concern. We had lost Savannah Grace, nothing seemed to be going right in our ministry, jobs, or home, and my pregnancy just felt “off.” On December 8, 2010, we found out why. I have always wanted to be used by God and for God, but I never wanted to feel the pain of the shattering, the pain of loss and removal. I can say with certainty that God loved me enough to piece me back together; I am golden because He has pieced me back together and created beauty from my pain.
NOTE: These pictures were copied from Lakeside Pottery. I do not have an endorsement or anything of the like from them. I use these pictures with respect for your craft. However, if you wish for me to remove them, I will do so. Thank you for the beauty you create. It is such a gift.
We are Jedidiah. 