Kintsugi of love
What’s the point of these feet if they bleed, you tell me. What’s the point of trying to run if I always veer from the path, you say?
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What’s the point of having feet if they bleed, you tell me. What’s the point of trying to run if I always veer from the path, you say?
Who told you that you’d be walking on feathers?
Who told you the path would be straight?
You bleed because your feet are touching the earth, my friend. Don’t be ashamed of these scars. They make you more precious. They weave your story. They make you whole. You are kintsugi.1
Only when you’ve bled do you learn to bandage your wounds. And in learning this, you can now heal others.
The path is not straight because it doesn't exist! It only becomes a path when you walk on it.
Look around you.
Don’t you realise that your voice is the instrument through which the flowers, the birds, the rivers, the earth, and the stars sing the praises of Love?
Too often we forget this, burdened by our doubts and shame. Afraid that others would see our scars. We’d rather crawl in the mud, wallowing in our shame, because we feel unworthy to walk or even look up.
We think we’re useless, dirty, and ugly, falsely believing that because we sinned yesterday, Love has abandoned us. If only we could see that Love surrounds us now, in our brokenness, in our suffering, then we’d laugh and shed tears of joy.
Love is not simply waiting for us, but running towards us like the father in the parable of the prodigal son.
But while [the son] was still a long way off, his father saw him and was filled with compassion for him; he ran to his son, threw his arms around him and kissed him.2
So too Love runs to us, embracing us in our muddiness. We are encircled in Love. We only have to open our eyes.
You know that our bodily existence whispers this truth? We exist because our parents made love. Our very conception—the genesis of our humaness—is formed in the unity of two opposites: man and woman.
This truth of our origin echoes across the cosmos.
And when we consider the fullness of reality, we are struck with this verse:
For in Him we live, and move, and have our being; as certain also of your own poets have said, For we are also His offspring.3
We live, breathe, and move in Love. There is no other.
So, you could swim to the deepest ocean, climb the highest mountain, and attempt to hide your face from Love because you feel unworthy. But I’ll tell you, wherever you go, Love awaits.
It could be the furthest, darkest regions of space or the deepest cave in your heart. There, you will find Love running towards you, throwing His arms around you, kissing you endlessly.
And when you open your eyes, you will see the banquet.
Hear this, my friend: Your golden scars make you precious to Love. They are reminding you that you are loved until the end of time.
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The Japanese art of repairing broken pottery using gold.
Luke 15.
Acts 17.