A friend of mine renovated his bathroom recently, and it is beautiful. It has warm earth tones, an architectural faucet, and a gorgeous marble-tiled floor. But the centerpiece of the room is the vanity. It is stunning. When you enter the room, your eyes are immediately drawn to its’ beauty, and you marvel at its’ composition.
Broken beauty. Flawed wonder.
Light gently refracts in all directions, as you carefully run your hand over the surface, expecting rough shards, only to find that your fingers glide smoothly across.
Initially, I was shocked by the vanity’s beauty. I spend much of my life trying to make things look right, fit right, feel right, and be right. I avoid things that are broken, fractured, or flawed. It’s similar to how I deal with my own realities. I’m prone to cover my flaws, or to be embarrassed by my inadequacies.
But this vanity was chosen. Selected precisely because of its’ flaws. The beauty emanated from brokenness.
And I’m reminded that we are each fearfully and wonderfully made by a Creator, who loves us, in our broken states. He chooses us; fractures, flaws, and all.
My part in his story is marked by brokenness, but my role is beautiful. I am chosen, crafted by an author who is fully aware of my flaws, and yet has covered me with his love. A grace that smooths out my fractured shards, and allows His light to shine through me.