 |
I don’t know how the crack was created. Part of me wants to know… feels that I need to
know... But, part of me realizes the
irrelevance of the information to the fact that there is a crack.
And now I must reconcile myself to this fact that my
beautiful bowl is not only unfinished but it also has a crack… at the
foundation nonetheless.
Beautiful.
Unfinished.
Cracked.
It’s funny that I call it ‘my’… even though I haven’t paid the
price for it yet. But, deep down, I know
I can not… will not leave the pottery studio without her. It’s almost as if the bowl picked me… chose
me and whispered,
I am going home with
you today.
The owner waits patiently, as if feeling the agony of my insides being shred to pieces. He knows
that there is nothing trifle about cracks… one must calculate the cost… and such
transactions require time…
For it takes time to let go of disappointment of the marred
perfection…
It takes time to reconcile oneself to the incompleteness,
and the process and the unfinishedness of
this life…
And most of all, it takes time… and humility… and wisdom…
and surrender to the gentle breathing of the Spirit of God... to embrace the bowl with it’s crack… buried deep in its
foundation…
No comments:
Post a Comment