Kintsugi is an old Japanese technique used to repair broken ceramics with a special lacquer mixed with gold, silver, or platinum. The ideology behind this practice is that nothing is ever truly broken. By fixing the piece, you can see this original integrity of that object while being able to visibly see the repair. In fact, the repair is showcased making the piece even more fascinating than before.

The piece is more beautiful for having been broken.

It isn’t devalued for having been used.

It is truly one of a kind.

I believe this concept is true for everything in life, especially to thrive in the world of special needs.

Earlier this week I had one of those days. It was a day where nothing seemed to be going right. If something was going to go wrong, it did. And it just seemed to escalate as the day went on. That night, TJ kept asking me “Are you okay, mom?” I kept saying “Sure!” and tried to play it off. But he knew. He could tell I was upset.

It finally dawned on me that it’s important for my children to see me sad. They need to know that I am human and things get me down. My resolve will crack. But I don’t have to hide it. I can ask God to repair my cracks and he does. He also makes me stronger than before. If fixed properly, the cracks don’t distract from the beauty. We are simply more lovely and unique because of those flaws. It’s the cracks – and how we are repaired – that make us who we are.

I may want my children to see me as strong, capable, and immovable. If I was honest with myself, that would be more of a pride thing for me. Is that the smartest or the most productive for them though? I don’t think so because it wouldn’t be real. I don’t want them to see me for something that I’m not, nor could ever be. I definitely don’t want them to feel less because they feel broken at times.

I want them to know that it is normal and completely okay to be sad when life cracks your exterior. It’s normal to crack under pressure. It’s even okay to be sad for no apparent reason. Some days it’s just a bad day and that’s okay. It’s normal to just be in a bad mood. (Anyone else hear Ouiser from the movie Steel Magnolias in their head right now? “I’ve just been in a very bad mood for 40 years!”)

Squirrel moment, sorry.

What would I be teaching them by always putting on the front that everything is just peachy? They would only learn that they aren’t as strong as they need to be (because mom never snapped). Maybe they would learn to ignore feelings (because that’s what mom must have done).

Now, I don’t believe in showing my true feelings over every single blessed thing. I believe in thinking before speaking and at least attempting to filter some thoughts. I don’t believe in the whole woe-is-me mentality. I don’t believe in sharing my drama for everyone to see so they know just how hard my life is. I truly believe I am blessed, so that’s the part I want people to acknowledge. But there are days where I want to roll on the floor all dramatic like lamenting on just how sucktastic my life is at that very moment. And if I’m not dragging those I love down on the floor with me, I think it’s okay for me to do that occasionally. My family needs to know that I feel the feels. They need to see the shell crack every once in a while so when their’s crack, they don’t feel broken or weak. And by me showing how beautiful the repairs can be, they may just be more willing to repair theirs as well. Hopefully, they won’t stay cracked. They won’t let the cracks become shattered pieces beyond repair.

Our hearts are meant to be used emotionally. And by using our heart, the damage is inevitable. In fact, the more it’s used, the more wear and tear it will be under. So when it’s broken, how do we repair it? We don’t wrap it up in bubble wrap, store it never to be used again. It would eventually be forgotten if we did that. 

It’s taken me a long time, but I’ve decided my children need to see my brokenness. More than anything I want them to see how we – as a family of God – help put each others’ pieces back together again. And through God’s grace, the end product is flawed and not like it once was but the broken pieces are laced with the gold of grace.

And maybe, just maybe, it’s more beautiful than the version that was never used. It is aged, the colors have faded, there are chips and cracks, and some of us even have handles completely missing. I hope I can always see the messy cracked up places of my life as times I have tried something new and was audacious. Or maybe it was just a time of growth or (most likely) when I lacked common sense. No matter how the cracks got there, it’s high time to claim the gold! It’s high time my children realize that used, cracked, and laced with golden grace is exactly how we were intended to be. And we’re gorgeous.

I may be cracked, but I am NOT broken.

Do you hide your pain? Do you need specific prayers? Or maybe you just need someone to pray an unspoken prayer for you or give you a word of encouragement. I’d love to hear from you. Feel free to reply to this email. They all come directly to me and it’ll be just between us. 

All my best,
Sara

If you want to comment on this post, then CLICK HERE! If you want to reply and it just be between you and me, reply to this email. I’ll get back to you as soon as possible!