The Tea Pot

There is a tea pot that sits on my stove
A precious gift from my grandmother.
It is old and is stained from many cups of tea
And the glass has a chip in it 

When I held it in my hands the other night
I thought about the fact that it resembles my life in ways
Because I now have learned to see my flaws and embrace them
Instead of hiding them or expecting perfection instead.

Accepting the blemishes
Allows the kind of growth for which I strive
And allows me to receive newness
That comes in God's time and not my own

And leaves my own prickly pursuits aside
So that I can embrace my humanness
I can cherish what is incomplete
Because I trust God is working His miracles
Even in this moment

All that is
Undone
Ungrateful
Unresolved
Still has a place
And a reason

And I am not defined by the flaws
Rather, they are part of a beautiful tapestry
That is my life--joy and sorrow woven together
To bind together all God has created into this very moment

There is a way, even in struggle or pain
That God gives a gift of strength
Constantly recreating this human being
Transforming me into all that is still possible

The circumstances do not define me
And never have, though my younger self thought so
For all that it yet unknown, yet uncovered, yet to be
IS known by the One who knows me fully and completely

And calls me Beloved.