God sees a masterpiece in our brokenness, and beauty in the midst of our pain.
As I walked into the hallway of the museum, I looked up and saw something so beautiful. A stained glass window. Observing the myriad of small glass pieces that made up the mural, I couldn’t help but wonder how long it must have taken to piece it all together. Looking at the description of this work of art, I read about how all the small pieces of glass that made up this masterpiece, were gathered from many shattered colored vases, gathered from many trashcans, and other broken vessels. Seeing a picture of the artists hands to the side of the description, I saw that his hands were callused, blood stained, and dirty. Callused from piecing all the broken pieces together, blood stained from the sharp edges piercing his skin, and dirty from digging through the trash to pick up the broken pieces from the garbage.
Looking up at the stain glassed artwork, I wondered how the artist pieced it all together. I mean, there were so many pieces, all different shapes and sizes, and all put together so perfectly by the artist to create a beautiful mural. Sitting down in on the bench in front of the artwork, I sat and stared at the stain glass window. I looked inside of my heart at my own brokenness, at my own life, and saw myself as these shattered pieces of glass I remembered how broken I was, shattered I was, and the pain that came from that brokenness. I looked back at how I had tried to mask my brokenness with eating disorders, cutting, the latest fashions, hobbies, and accomplishments. But no matter how many masks I put over my brokenness, the masks were not able to hide the broken self-image that lay beneath.
Putting my head in my hands, I felt the tears running down my eyes, and fall to the floor. I remembered the day when I saw my life in pieces before me, with my hands on my head, I wondered how this shattered life could ever be pieced back together again. In my moment of brokenness I remembered Gods love surrounding me. Standing up, I remember pointing to my life that was in utter despair, and asking God how it will ever be pieced back together again. When I left my shattered life in God’s hands, He became like the artist who made the stain glassed window. Slowly He began to pick up the pieces of my life one at a time. Placing them on a table before Him, He pictured how my life could be and will be, then He set off to work.
Night and day night and day, He pieced back together my life until it was whole again. Piecing back the brokenness, the cutting, eating disorders and depression brought into my life. I pictured how His hands would have looked like after He was done. It must have looked like the hands of the artist that I saw in front of me from the stained glass window. His hands must have been callused, bloody and full of dirt. Callused from piecing back the broken pieces of my life back together, bloody from the sacrifice He made for me in the cross, and dirty from the dirt of my life He picked me up from.
Looking up at the stain glassed window again, as I sat on the bench in the museum. I smiled, through my tears, because I realized that the mural in front of me, was really like the mural of my life. How God pieced back the broken pieces of my life, as shattered as it was, until it created a beautiful picture like the one that stood in front of me. I was thankful in my heart, because God never stopped piecing me back together. He didn’t tell me I was too far gone, too messed up, and too broken. He saw a masterpiece in my brokenness, and beauty in the midst of my pain. Closing my eyes, I thanked God that day for the work He did for me in the cross. I thanked Him for never giving up on me, and for shining through my brokenness just like that stain glassed window.
Christina Boudreau- Founder of Beauty Has No Size
Christina is passionate about restoring value, purpose, identity and beauty to the young women of this generation. Follow- @beauty_hasnosize