Collector of Cracked Pots

One of my favorite movie heroes is Indiana Jones. I love to watch his adventures as he searches for artifacts from past civilizations. Real life archeologists sometimes search for years to find only scattered pieces of pottery. It’s amazing how painstakingly they put all the shattered pieces together. In many instances they are able to completely reconstruct the pottery to its original form.

Other than the obvious cracks, once the repairs are made, it looks as good as new. Once restored, a quality piece is usually placed in a museum where it is illuminated by special light and prominently displayed on a pedestal for all to see and enjoy.

But there are also private collectors of such treasures. One day while praying in the Spirit, I saw such a place in a vision. I entered a large building, which was rather plain, and followed a dimly lit carpeted hallway into a large room. The room was dark except for an area to the left, so I made my way there.

Before me stood a large wall painted with swirling brush strokes, giving it the appearance of a work of art. In front of the wall was a row of lighted glass pedestals with pottery sitting atop each one. It looked like a room in a museum. Each piece of pottery was splashed with light so that it was visible top, bottom, and sides.

As I approached for a closer examination, I noticed two things. Each pot was beautiful and unique in it’s own right, and each one was cracked. Some had one or two obvious cracks, and others had cracks like a spider web, surrounding it. But all were obviously painstakingly repaired and displayed in a place of honor.

I closely examined the first pot on my left. It was a plain earthen vessel with no visible decoration. It had one large crack from top to bottom, which had somehow been perfectly repaired. The crack, however, was still visible.

The next pot to my right was a large ornate vessel with designs depicting battles won and lost. It was a Kingly vessel of blue, with numerous flaws, which had been repaired.
Next was a beautiful classic pot, tall and thin, with leaves of green and gold decorations. Though repaired, one large crack spiraled around from the top to the bottom. It appeared to be the vessel of a scholar.

The next one was a wide short pot upon which were etchings of fish and the sea. The outside was fine but there was a large crack on the inside, which had been painstakingly supported and reinforced so the repair would hold.

The last pot in the row was a normal looking vessel at first glance, but closer inspection revealed a pot that had been shattered and put together more than once. It seemed that even the pieces had been broken. It was, however, masterfully reconstructed and sealed.

I stepped back and pondered these artifacts, wondering about their significance, when a voice spoke from behind me and said, “Would you like to know the significance of those pots?” Standing with my arms crossed, I didn’t turn around. Assuming this was the proprietor I answered. “Yes sir, please tell me.”

“Look closely at the placard on the first pedestal,” He said. Stepping over to it, I leaned down and read, “Adam.” “Adam?” I said. “Yes.” He replied. “Adam had a large flaw, one which cost me dearly. But the cost was a price that I was more than willing to pay.”

He instructed me to look at the next one. The placard read, “David.” “Yes,” He said. The King had many flaws, but what a beautiful vessel. Don’t you agree?” “Yes,” I replied. He spoke softly and said, “This was a vessel that captured my heart.”

The next pot, a classic with leaves of green and gold, had a placard, which read “Paul.” “Paul, Paul,” the voice said, “a vessel of educated substance, refined and stately. This spiral crack caused it great weakness, but my grace was sufficient. ”

The wide pot with ocean etchings had a placard, which read, “Peter.” “This vessel,” said the voice “was large, strong, and capable of much, but suffered severe damage on the inside. I had to hold it together for some time until the repair was complete. It became one of my greatest works. Now look closely at the next vessel.

I leaned down to read the placard on the twice-shattered pot and beheld my own name. Tears filled my eyes as I remembered the shattering that almost destroyed me, the destruction of my childhood due to my parents’ divorce. “I am like a broken vessel” (Psalm 31:12 KJV)

I turned to face the collector of cracked pots and beheld the Father! His eyes were as penetrating as His smile was warm. I felt the strength of His embrace as I said, “Thank you for putting together the shattered pieces of my life Father.” Unspoken love and acceptance passed between us.

He stepped over and picked up the Adam pot. “Son, he said, ever since that first vessel Adam, there has been flaws and cracks in every vessel which has come afterward.“
He went from pedestal to pedestal, carefully holding, and softly rubbing each pot. Then with an expert eye, He placed each one back on their pedestal so that the light reflected the unique beauty of each vessel.

He spoke again, “I sent my son Jesus to pay the price of all the cracked pots and to bring the pieces to me. And you know son, it wasn’t until I repaired the cracks that the vessels had their greatest use.”

When he finished, He gave me a pat on the shoulder and a quick smile as He walked past me toward the darkened area of the room. It lit up as He entered, and to my amazement, the light revealed the room to be enormous. It stretched out as far as I could see. My eyes quickly searched for Father and I saw Him walking, far away in the distance…in the middle of a sea of pedestals which held His redeemed collection of cracked pots, a collection which no man can number.

“And yet, O Lord, you are our Father. We are the clay, and you are the potter. We are all formed by your hand” (Isaiah 64:8 NLT).