Sunday, November 19, 2006


I broke an antique French plate Friday....or was it Thursday? I don't remember.
I was applying mascara and my elbow got too close to the Victorian transferware hanging next to my mirror. I nudged it just enough for it to pop off the wall. It plunged onto an antique English gingerjar that housed my Q-tips. Yep. Broke the gingerjar, too. Funny thing happened at the moment I broke it. Didn't bother me a bit.

I thought, wow. My heart didn't even skip a beat. I just looked at the broken pieces and thought, Lois Miller. Then I said, nah, I can make something from these broken pieces. I can make a shabby chic serving tray. But then Lois Miller popped into my mind again. I continued putting on my mascara and went to lunch with my friend, Barb. I figured I'd clean up that mess later.

As I drove to Atlanta Bread Company, I thought about my expensive plate and gingerjar that I'd paid far less than they were worth. Value? Maybe a hundred and fifty dollars. Now? Worthless. Broken. Useless.

I was reminded of a time I broke my stepmother's china cup and she went bonkers. She ranted on and on about that being her favorite cup. I cried. I was eleven. I tried to glue it back together. Of course, that was stupid. Who can drink coffee out of a cup that's been glued together in eight pieces? I'll never forget that cup and how I felt for breaking it.

But that is good. Cause when my children were growing up and they accidently broke something or spilled something, I didn't go bonkers. I thought about how tender their hearts were--how I didn't want to put any chips in them.

That's why I thought of Lois Miller. I met her years ago when I managed an Antique Mall in Evansville, Indiana. She rented a case from us and we sold the incredible jewelry she created from broken china. Pendants, bracelets, earrings. She now has her own
website. Folks actually bring pieces of their mother's and grandmother's china and she creates keepsake memories for them to wear. I had bought several pieces from her. I've never once worn that jewelry without a compliment and the inevitable question: "Where did you get that?"

When I got home from having lunch with Barb, (which was so much fun, because Barb is so inspiring), I came into my office and looked up the email for Lois Miller. I hadn't contacted her in quite a while. Wasn't sure the email would be correct. She replied right away. I asked if she'd like me to send some broken teal china to her. She was elated! Now can you imagine? Broken china.

Unlike my stepmother, Lois was thrilled when I offered her broken china. I didn't even have to glue it together. And it's the same with Jesus when I offer him my damaged life. He is thrilled. I don't have to glue it together, either. He does it. And someday He's gonna show me all the stuff He's made from my broken pieces. Isn't that wonderful?
[copyrighted, 2006, selahV]

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

That was nice. I hope when Lois Miller gets your china and uses it for her jewelry that she will send you a picture for you to share with others of your victorian transferware. BJ