Pottery, Faith and Brokenness

Pottery class is on Wednesday evening from 7 to 9:30. Often, Olivia is waiting up for me. I hear a faint, "Daddyyyyyyyyyyy?" coming from her room. "Yes Porkchop?" I answer. "Did you make me anything?" She expects me to bring her home something each week.

Every couple months I throw minis from the hump (sounds dirty doesn't it). Basically, that means that you take a large cone of clay, center it reasonably well and begin to throw very small pieces off the top of the hump of clay. I can make a dozen or so pieces, and have them trimmed, glazed and home in few weeks. Then I have a stash of pieces to give to O on a weekly basis.

A few months ago I brought home a really cute mini bowl I had made. It had an image of a dragonfly impressed into the center and a beautiful crystal green glaze. She loved it. She decided she was going to bring it in for sharing (show-and-tell for the older crowd) the next day at school. On the way out the door Kim dropped the piece on the tile floor and shattered it in several pieces.

Olivia was hysterical. They called me at work on the way to school. My Admin pulled me out of a meeting to talk to my sobbing daughter. I consoled her as best I could. Instead of the broken bowl, she brought an older piece into school. The teacher later told us that O introduced the piece in tears saying, "I was going to bring in my favorite piece, but my Mommy broke it. I'll never be happy again."

Broken pottery and broken faith. What happens when our beliefs are shattered. What happens when our loved ones die, when our plans are wiped out in a matter of minutes or when we get sick, really, really sick.

We have the ability to react in a variety of ways. Do we bury our heads in the sand, do we give up hope, or do we grieve and then try to make sense of our brokenness in the reality of our surroundings?

We're all broken. I know I'm broken. To me, that's pretty much the whole point of why Christ died. He died to fix our broken-ness. I use a lot of imagery in my life (to get through exercise, to visualize a finished piece of pottery or to figure out just what I'm asking for in prayer). I have an image of Jesus saying... "Look Mollo, you're totally fucked. (Sorry everyone, my Jesus swears). I know you know it. I'll take the hit for this one. Just try not to fuck (there he goes again) up so much. When you see it coming, turn the other way... don't hurt anyone, don't kill anyone, feed the hungry, give cash to the poor, smile at the homeless, befriend people, and most of all love. Seriously. Love." That's what Jesus says to me in a nutshell.

Pick up the pieces! Glue them back together. We did that with Olivia's bowl. The bowl is better for the cracks and the bits of glue. It's a reminder that she has people who love her enough to spend time putting the pieces back together with her. And that is a reminder that we're all better having our faiths mended.