The broken pot sits on the shelf among countless others. There is a large crack through her base from the time she was dropped, a gaping hole in her side from the day she rolled off the wooden table and fell to the hard ground. She is chipped and punctured and scraped.
Every day, she squirms as close as possible to the wall and angles herself so only the most whole part shows. The gaping hole to the wall, the jagged crack to the shelf. Now the other pots won't see her brokenness. Now the Potter won't see her - He'll forget and let her be, right? Safe, right?
All the other pots are radiant. They're shiny and beautiful. If they could see, surely they would laugh, mock her, snub her, shove her off the shelf to be dashed into countless fragments on the cold, stone floor.
The pots around her worry. She stays aloof. She's hard, solid, unyielding. "What's wrong? Why are you hiding back there?" they gently inquire.
"Nothing. Why would anything be wrong? I'm fine. Everything's alright."
She is made keenly aware by their questions of the chips, scratches, and holes in even her most whole side. She twists and turns, trying to position herself so the light and shadows conceal them as completely as possible.
One day as she hides in the dark corner, she hears the purposeful steps of the Potter. She shrinks back as far as possible and hopes He will pass over her and take a different pot - a radiant pot from the front of the shelf. Surely that is what He wants.
But today is not like other days. He calls her name and she trembles violently. He begins to reach for her and she desperately fights to become one with the wall, but to no avail. She is afraid. What will the Potter do with her? Surely a broken pot is detestable to Him. Every day she watches Him put beautiful, new, radiant pots on the shelf. She dare not think about what is coming. Not sitting here in His strong hands. The One who makes such glorious vessels must utterly despise such a disgrace as herself.
But as He gently cradles her in His hands, He whispers, "Remember." And she does. She remembers the day she lay empty, broken, abandoned, dirty on the ground. He knelt in the dirt by her side and picked her up, even as He was scraped and abused by her jagged, broken pieces. That day, He washed her with His tears and carried her to His own house, where He watched over her day after day.
He knows her thoughts. "Why are you ashamed? Why are you afraid? I love you. I brought you into my own house. You are safe and secure and accepted."
A trembling whisper."I don't know"
"I did something else the day I took you in. You've forgotten. Let me show you."
He begins to turn the broken, little pot in His hands and she fights and screams and kicks. "No! No! Don't do that! It's broken! It's ugly!"
All of a sudden, she's facing a mirror and it's so incredibly bright, she can barely stand to look at it. "Ack! What is that?!?!" she cries and averts her eyes.
"Look," He urges. "Look."
Slowly, ever so slowly, she turns her gaze upon the shining mirror and... what is that? She knows that scar. Yes, and that crack. And that chip. And that... gaping hole! "But how... ?"
"You're beautiful," He sings.
And it all floods back. He picked her up, He bore her abuse, He washed her with His own tears, He brought her into His own home, and then. Then He put a great treasure inside of her, a shining treasure of indescribable worth.
She remembers. She had sat in His hand that day and marveled at its splendor. It was perfect. And He had given it to her! She had known that day that she was beautiful because the shining treasure within made her so.
"Who told you that you were ugly? Who made you ashamed of your brokenness? It's through your brokenness that the great treasure shines through. Every day you hid your cracks and holes, you tried to hide the glory, the indescribable beauty I gave you to hold within."
There lay the truth. Her best attempt to hide her ugliness had never made her beautiful. It had hidden the one thing that could make her beautiful.
As she stared intently at her reflection, she saw she was more broken than she ever imagined... but she was also more beautiful than she ever could have dreamed.
"Forgive me. Break my pride. You make this little broken pot beautiful."
"No more hiding, you beautiful, little pot. Let your light shine before men."
