It Can Be Fixed

I did I do again cropped

Can You Fix It, Daddy?

Looking around in horror at the shattered, broken pieces of my life, I couldn’t bear the thought of facing my Father. Ashamed, embarrassed and afraid to let Him see all the shards of my broken life, I was grieving deeply over what I had done. I had dropped my life only to see it smash to bits on the cold hard pavement.

Frantically, I rehearsed what I would say when the inevitable confrontation came. “It was an accident, Daddy! It just slipped out of my hands. I didn’t mean to break it! Please forgive me!” My eyes welled up with tears. As I quickly tried to sweep all the remains of the broken glass into a dustpan, I hoped and prayed desperately that my Father would not be angry with me for breaking His precious vessel. It was His prized possession…and I had totally destroyed it. Now my tears began to flow like a river as I surveyed the mess I had made. My Father had paid a high price for this valuable piece of original art. There was not another one like it. Not even a copy. And now I had broken it.

Unaware of anyone else n the room, I looked up and was shocked to see my Father standing over me. I could not look at Him. All my carefully rehearsed words fled away until the only thing I could do was ask in childlike faith, “Can you fix it Daddy? Oh please, please tell me you can fix it!”

Glue and pieces of my broken vessel were still stuck to my guilty, trembling fingers from my own feeble attempts to repair the damage before He saw it. Now it was too late. How could I have been so careless? Why wasn’t I paying attention? How could my Father ever trust me again? With my own condemning words, I began to punish myself for my mistakes.

Gently and with an adoring smile on His face, my Father reached out his hand and peeled the stuck pieces from my fingers. The flood of compassion in His eyes soothed my fears as He replied, “Just give it to Daddy; I can make it better than it ever was before!” After taking all the fragments from me, He laid them on the ground. Then, to my complete surprise, He took a large hammer and began crushing all those broken pieces into a fine powder.

I cried out in horror, “Daddy! Why are you doing that?”

He replied softly, “Sweetie, go and rest. Just trust me in this.” He pulverized another broken piece, then another and another. To my amazement, I discovered that each blow of His hammer relieved my pain more and more. As each broken piece was reduced to powder, the shame and heartache of my carelessness diminished.

“I see your contrite heart,” Father said tenderly as he continued smashing the broken pieces of my life. “Let Me make something beautiful out of it all. You are forgiven. Go now and I will call you when I am ready to put the new vessel into the fire. I will make a fine piece out of this. It will be a treasure much more valuable than the last one; a vessel of honor to put on display for everyone. Wait and see; I will make something beautiful out of nothing.”

Blessings,

Katrina Cati

From My Book: “I Did I Do Again”Image

 

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One thought on “It Can Be Fixed

  1. Pingback: It Can Be Fixed | 50 Plus, Health, Beauty, Family...

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