It was Christmas Eve and I was about 8 years old. My family had gone to church for the candlelight service and now we were home getting ready for bed before the big day of presents but we had a few things to do first. We put on our matching Christmas pajamas (a tradition my mom loved but I hated), poured a glass of milk and got some cookies for the big guy. The cookies went a special plate (the kind you might buy at Hallmark) that we used every year. My sister carried the milk and I carried the cookies to put them on the mantle for Santa; but I tripped and the cookies and the plate went flying. The plate broke into many pieces and so did my heart. I felt awful for breaking the special plate and was worried I had ruined my chances for gifts from Santa who I was sure would be disappointed in me. My parents wiped away my tears and sent me off to bed with assurances that Santa was an understanding guy.
The next morning I was surprised not only by gifts, but by the sigh of that plate carefully glued back together. Once fixed the plate was never quite the same with obvious cracks in it, but we used it anyway year after year and laughed about the memory. A few years ago, once I had my own family, my parents gave me that plate and we use it year after year too. I love that plate. I love it because I know that my father stayed up late on Christmas Eve and carefully put it back together piece by piece because he loved his son. Now I tell my sons the story and watch as they carefully carry it to our fireplace (they haven't dropped it yet). I like it more because it was broken. God, our Heavenly Father, seems to like to fix broken things. He says in Revelation 21:5 "Behold, I am making all things new!" God can take us, broken as we might be, and make us beautiful again...and actually by his fixing we are more beautiful than ever before! Hallelujah, God loves us and through his love he is ready with the glue!
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