The parable of my cup.
Once upon a time I had one of those infuser cups. It was a ripper. It had lovely markings and it was given to me by my son.
I thought of him fondly and with gratitude every-time I poured a brew. That was until one day .. I dropped it and the handle broke. I was as shattered as the handle and I had to fess up.
To my surprise, he wasn’t grumpy but actually went one step better and offered to fix it.
Shamefacedly I gave him the bits and he took them away to put it all back together again. Time went by and the mug was returned intact. If you knew what had happened and were looking for it, you could spot the fracture. If not, you would have no idea and think the chink was part of the design.
Odd, isn’t it. Now sipping my refreshing beverage from this mug it actually means more to me than ever before. My son has invested himself twice into this cup. Once when he bought it and once when he spent a goodly amount of time fixing it. His time, energy and skill are always with me. It's like having a part of him here in the rectory while he is actually miles away.
But the cup also reminds me of everyone who walks the earth. We are all a bit fractured and some of us, through the help of others, have been put back together. Sure we are not exactly as we were, we never can be; but in some mysterious way we are more lovelier and valued with our chips and our flaws.
So here's to the Master craftsman who mends and heals. Here's to our fractures which make us all the more lovely and treasured.