So, one day, God spoke to my heart about the quiet moments I needed to share with Him when I was tempted to trade my hope for sorrow. I decided to have these quiet moments over tea and blankets and tears. However, the tears quickly dried and His gentle Spirit wrapped around me in such a way that it felt as if a father had wrapped me in his strong, powerful and capable arms. The fear and heartache faded.
This began the story of the promise tea pots. I found a silver tea service and sent it to Courtney with a note. Whenever she was tempted to give up on the promises of God, she was supposed to fill the teapot and sit down and invite her Heavenly Father to sit with her. Everything else would happen in His time, but the comfort that would come to her in those quiet moments would help restore the energy it would take to keep pushing ahead.
Courtney and I are both mothers today. God fulfilled His promises to us. He has blessed us with the children we so desperately longed for. You would think that would be the end of the promise tea pot—the end of the struggle—but, oh, no, not even at all.
Life is a series of struggles and storms; some are less frightening than the next, but they all have the power to weaken our resolve. The promise tea pot grows a little less shiny and develops a fine patina. It takes a diligent woman to continue to keep the silver polished and pour more hopes and dreams into it…
But what happens if careless fingers, or one of those beautiful little children that came to be, knock a piece of the chine tea set off it’s place of honor? What happens when life leaves hairline cracks upon our promises, our goals, and our dreams? What do we do with the pain that aging brings, the fear that parenting gives, and the fears that new days toss at us?
He fixes us with gold…
Something pure and strong and beautiful.
He will not fail us.
Our Father will faithfully keep His eyes upon the desires we hide in our hearts and guard from the jackals. He will be the watchman in the tower who watches over them and protects them from the darkness of night. And though the vine might be slow in producing fruit, and maybe the harvest is long in coming, it is still there—far more beautiful than we ever could have anticipated. All the blood sweat and tears we thought we had wasted in the hoping, in the dreaming, will have been redeemed with gold.
And this is like kintsugi.https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kintsugi The old Japanese art form of repair is what God does for my hopes and dreams. The pieces of promises I’ve collected over the years to remind me—such as the bluebird of happiness coffee mug—they’ve been bruised by life, but the gold not only makes them functional again, it makes them more beautiful and interesting.
So do not give up.
Do not give up on Him.
We will walk out of this with something better than what we thought we would have before the storms rolled upon on.
We will walk out of this with windblown hair and bright eyes full of vigor and joy…
And we will be covered in gold.
Our lives will be covered in gold.