Idioms and Broken Pottery

    While in Juarez, Mexico, Peyton and I made several memories.  This is one I will never forget!

     On Saturday morning, we were on the bus at 5:30 AM heading four hours southwest to a town named, Casas Grande.  There we helped with two festivals where we handed out OCC Shoeboxes to precious little ones.   After the conclusion of the second festival, we boarded the bus to travel thirty minutes down the road for our last festival and OCC distribution.

     We were excited about visiting this village.  It was a small, rural village, and Carlos said that they many had never heard the gospel. Also, recently a local man had rediscovered the ancient Mayan skill of making unique pottery.  His pottery was world-famous.  Celebrities, such as Laura Bush, had flown into the small town to purchase this guy's pottery. And it was expensive- like $10,000 per pot expensive.

     After the festival and shoebox distribution, our team visited with locals and proceeded to buy some inexpensive pottery as souvenirs.  Most of us wanted to visit the skilled potter that was world-renoun for his work.  So we went into his shop.  Bobby was chit-chatting with the artist while Peyton and I walked around examining the expensive pottery. Ironically, his first words to me in the shop were, "Mom, don't be a bull in a china closet."  I laughed and agreed, pointing out for him to watch his step as there was a sudden slope in the floor. We continued to look at the beautiful bowls and vases always eyeballing the price tag.  As we headed to the register where Bobby was still engaged in conversation, Peyton raised his arm, pulled at his neck, bumped a vase, that plunged into another vase on its way to the floor.  CRASHHH!!!!
     Oh my!  I gulped as I turned to realize that my child had caused the commotion. Peyton was already on the ground picking up the pieces….saying, "Mom, I'll pay ya back. I'm so sorry."  I looked at the store owner and said, "I have a debit card?" YIKES!  I asked the store owner how much I owed for both of the broken pots.  He explained that I only had to pay for one and that was $30. WHEW!!  He was a nice guy, or Bobby had been buttering him up.  I was still in shock, but laughing uncontrollably while thinking about the "memory" we had just made.  The kind man gladly accepted $40 and insisted that I take one of the pots home with me. He then showed me how to sand down the chipped edges and make it look new again, as he had done several times before.   I took my purchase back to the bus knowing  I would never be able to look at that pot and not "crack" a smile.

     The next day (after Peyton had recovered a little more) I reminded him of the idiom he had rattled off to me as I entered the shop.  Several jokes went around, mostly about how Peyton could really "crack us up".
     That pot represents a happy (thankfully inexpensive) memory, as well as a lesson in the irony of idioms. But, it reminds me of a little more, too.
      It reminds me of the Potter that molds us and shapes us into who He wants us to be.  Do we crack sometimes?  Do we break? Shatter? Of course, we all do.  But even if/when we break, we are fixable.  He can sand us down, and start something new. Something beautiful. Pretty amazing!
     And just like our little pot, we all have a story. Sad stories. Happy stories. Funny stories. Restored stories. And some of us probably "crack" the Potter up a little more than others……