Kintsugi

Last semester I wrote a monologue from the point of view of a broken piece of pottery being transformed into a new creation of Kintsugi, broken pottery made new with liquid gold. This Kintsugi metaphor has been a powerful image in my life for God's grace and love as He works in my weakness and makes me into a new creation. It illustrates Christ's words in 2 Corinthians 12, "My grace is sufficient for you. My power made perfect in weakness."

At first, I was terrified to share these words with my Epiphany theatre ministry ensemble. We write our own songs, scenes, and monologues using stories from our lives and find God in them. This piece was written for our ensemble but it is a tender and vulnerable experience that I wanted to keep close to my heart -- yet, I had a strong feeling I should share it with the group. 

Shaking, I read it out loud. The piece was recieved well and it ended up in our final set. I struggled to memorize it, my words being so similar and stream of consciousness. And I struggled to say these words with confidence in front of my friends, consumed with the familiar feeling of insecurity and doubt. 

Several times in the last few weeks, I've wanted to ask Ben, our director, to cut this piece from our set. I've felt like a failure and it felt easier if he would say he was disappointed in me and cut it from our set then to have to work through my insecurity and do it. 

But, Ben wouldn't let me get away with it that easy. He made me do it in rehearsal and he didn't treat me with disappointment. Instead, I encountered a reminder of the very grace that is offered in the image of this piece. Over the past few weeks, not wanting to fall flat on my ass during this most terrifying part of our set, I've spent time memorizing it. And I've discovered that as I've gotten comfortable with the words, their truth has started to sink in more and I've began to actually breathe the meaning of the monologue. 

Today, we did our set for a local church and living my Kintsugi monologue was still a bit scary, but experiencing the richness of God's mercy, love, and grace in my brokeness was incredibly healing. 

So today, I thought I'd share my monologue and some of my process with it. If you want to hear me perform it, come check out our Epiphany set in April or inquire with your church to see if they are interested in having us come share our stories :) 

Either way, I hope these words can bring some comfort and encouragment if all you can see right now is your brokeness. I know for me lately, my brokeness and failure has been consuming my focus. I'm ready to look at the gold of his love and grace again. To walk in the beauty of being a new creation. At least for a moment. 

Sincerely,

Sophi

Kintsugi Monologue:

Sometimes I feel like such a broken piece of pottery. All I can feel are my sharp edges. And the holes where there ought to be something! I keep trying to fix them! I’ve tried hot glue and gorilla glue and that stuff they fill wood with. But it all just keeps slipping, breaking, cracking and the holes are back. 

And my edges…they are just so rough, so broken. Who would ever want to touch them? To come near, to hold or use this piece of pottery…one might get hurt. 

I’ve lost my use! How will I ever hold water or precious jewels or pretty flowers again? And besides all that, I’m just so ugly! What, with all these broken pieces! I was beautiful once…wasn’t I? I thought I was complete and whole. With pretty paint adorning me just so. But now its all worn down. And I’ve slipped and fallen, and broken. And I’m ugly now! So. so. Ugly! 

What’s this? It’s warm. And golden. Like the most perfect sunset or sunrise. It’s filling my insides, shifting my pieces, bringing them together. Liquid gold painted on the rough edges of my broken pieces, sealing these cracks, forging my edges together. I’m being fixed! Restored! No, not restored. Not quite fixed…better than fixed! I do not look or feel the same.

This gold is smooth and beautiful. Not like the rough, sticky glue I tried before. It's soft and whole. It doesn’t hide these cracks I have and yet, filling them, it makes them beautiful! A stunning masterpiece.

And this gold, this rich, thick gold, is so much stronger than my old super glue. It’s holding me together and… I look different now. Beautiful almost?

It is ethereal. Healing and hope arise within me. Flowing from the gold and seeping into every crack. A breathtaking display of God’s glory inside me.  It illuminates the dark corners of this old ceramics studio. A rich and inviting light within me, this gold, thick like blood, fills my veins and pulses through my heart. Where did this glory come from? This strength and peace and beauty? This redeeming light. Oh sweet, tender, grace.

It’s from you isn’t it? You, who’ve been here this whole time. For this is your studio and your work table. It must be you who’s taken mercy on this broken piece of pottery.  You formed me and only you could make me into something so new and beautiful. This rich river of gold within me now, must be from you. What a gift! Oh what a gracious, gracious gift! To be so whole and full of your love. But, artist? What is my name? For I must have a name. A piece of art like this has always got a name. 

You are my handiwork. This gold is my signature on you. So all the world may know that I live in you. That I am the great redeemer. That it is my love and grace that makes you whole and beautiful and new. When these cracks feel scary my dear, sweet, handiwork and all you can see is your brokenness, look in them and you will see – my grace is sufficient for you. My power made perfect in weakness. Go on then, boast of your cracks and my beautiful gold I'm filling them with, for when you are weak, then I am strong.