My eyes keep wandering back to that broken teacup. There are plenty of other cute ones vying for my attention around my friend's windowsill, but I am drawn to this one. You would think my favorite cup would be the French one splattered with fashionistas exclaiming, "Oh la la!" and "Très chic!". Or the bold and sturdy tan one from Chihuahua. But this broken one. Is. What. I. See and like.
Though rendered useless, my friend has not moved it, packed it away, or hidden it from view. It is a failed cup. But it has a history and means something to her, so put it stays.
I eye it again. What is it about that c...? It is my year here. Brokeness and failure led us here. This year was supposed to be my broken one, the one we had to do because of a failed technical evaluation. I was supposed to be ashamed of this year and pack it away, hidden from view, because it stemmed from failure to launch into Our Good Plan that we had for Cameroon. But we weren't meant to do that. Or be there. We were meant to do this. And be here. And I've liked it. I'm drawn to what we've learned here and to the people we've loved. I'm awed by how God took what was supposed to be our Broken and our Failure and He has made it one of my Favorites. I have experienced depth in the body of Christ among these people in a new way. I've loved fast and fiercely and they've loved back. The headlines of this year read, "Broken Morphs Into Beauty".
I like that cup and I hope she leaves it there forever.
"All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us."