Category: Healing

Empty or Broken Vessel?

Empty or Broken Vessel?

We’re all just broken vessels in some way. Some cracks and chips are more noticeable than others.

I was thinking the other day about the saying, “It’s hard to pour from an empty vessel.” Of course this is true in its literal sense, but also in its symbolic and spiritual sense. For those who take seriously the call to love and serve others, there is a very real tendency to pour out, love, and serve until our own vessel has run dry.

In the name of helping others we sometimes don’t take the best care of ourselves. It becomes necessary, then, to put plans in place for self-care of body, mind, and spirit: go for a walk in the fresh air, read a book for personal pleasure, meditate on a scripture verse, take a nap, or meet with your spiritual director. Proactively making these practices a priority will help to prevent the vessel from becoming empty.

But what about a broken vessel? That’s hard to pour from as well. I picture a clay pot that has small cracks, or a spout with chips and pieces missing, and in that instance it would again be hard to truly pour out. A cracked vessel can lose water slowly (or quickly), or in cases where the crack is big enough it will prevent that vessel from holding anything at all. This can happen in our own lives as well.

We’re all just broken vessels in some way. Some cracks and chips are more noticeable than others. Sometimes we tell ourselves that we’re the only one who is broken, or we convince ourselves that everyone else is broken except us. In reality we’re all just broken vessels and we just leak at different rates.

The Japanese have a pottery practice called Kintsugi, also referred to as Kintsukuroi. In this practice, pottery which has broken or become cracked is repaired with a mixture that includes gold, silver, or platinum. The practice incorporates the brokenness of the vessel into its story, acknowledges the history, and makes it beautiful in its own unique way. This is what God desires to do in us—acknowledging our brokenness, incorporating it into our story, and making us uniquely beautiful as God’s re-creation.

Whether you are empty or broken, it’s time to tend to your own vessel. 

I’d love to sit with you in Spiritual Direction to discern where you are in faith. Perhaps you have been feeling empty, or maybe it’s time to mend some brokenness. Let’s walk together in healing and move toward wholeness.

“I feel pain!”

How often do we take an assessment of our current situation and give words to our feelings? Do we actually declare that we feel pain?

A small group of friends was gathered around the table at our house one evening. My son was small, and he was running around the house in his socks. He passed through the dining room like a rocket, and as he hit the kitchen linoleum lost his footing and wiped out. There was that brief moment of no sound, and then he let out a wail and yelled, “I feel pain! I feel pain!”

I’m pretty sure our concern for his injury was mixed with some laughter at the particular phrasing he used to indicate he had hurt himself.

The way that he voiced his injury made us chuckle at the time, but it also is a beautiful picture of the way that a young person gives words to feelings that we adults should perhaps take note of.

How often do we take an assessment of our current situation and give words to our feelings? Do we actually declare that we feel pain?

I would venture to guess that most of us have little issue naming our physical pain, especially as age sets in and the aches seem to multiply—it’s more a case of singling out which pain is most noticed at the time. It’s even culturally acceptable to share that ailment publicly with others.

It’s far less common (and less acceptable) for us to name our mental, emotional, or spiritual pain. I’m not sure why that is. If my back is causing me pain I can let everyone know. If I feel some ailment in my spiritual life that is far less acceptable to voice.

But you know what? Sometimes “I feel pain.” 

There’s no reason that we shouldn’t feel free to voice our mental, emotional, or spiritual pain. The cultural norm has shifted more toward acceptance of seeing a therapist, addressing our mental health, and working any number of programs. That has not yet happened in the realm of spiritual pain—but it’s possible. And necessary.

Spiritual Direction is a safe environment in which you can declare your spiritual state and express that you “feel pain” for any number of circumstances. 

Spiritual Direction enables you to assess where there might be pain and to begin to give voice to the ways that you have been hurt, or are being hurt. 

Spiritual Direction offers a path to walk with a companion as you seek to move toward healing and look for ways to alleviate the pain of the past.

If your spirit is crying out, “I feel pain! I feel pain!” then let’s talk about how Spiritual Direction might be the right next step toward healing for you.

“I feel pain!”
Band-Aid or Balm?

Band-Aid or Balm?

Healing, especially of a spiritual sort, often takes time, presence, awareness, attention, and a balm that prevents further dis-ease in our soul.

When my kids were little we went through a lot of band-aids. We had boxes of them in the cupboard with all sorts of varieties: cartoon characters, super heroes, princesses, cars, unicorns, and more. We had normal brown ones as well, but those never quite did the trick when one of the kids had a boo-boo. 

It always amazed me how quickly a bright and colorful band-aid stopped the tears and took away the pain of a skinned knee or elbow. Out of sight—out of mind. In reality, their cut or scrape was still there. Under the band-aid there was still a hurt that we had simply covered up.

I don’t fault them for feeling better once their mom or I took the time to kiss their boo-boo, put on some ointment, and cover it with a novelty band-aid. The time, care, and attention certainly helped them to feel better. They attributed their miraculous healing to the super hero band-aid, while we knew the injury would take time to heal and required some ointment that would prevent infection and speed the recovery process.

If we’re honest with ourselves, even as adults, we are hoping for a band-aid rather than balm. We prefer something colorful or distracting to make us feel better in the midst of our hurts, cuts, and scars while what we really need is some balm; a source of healing which will truly bring about wellness.

In a chaotic and busy world with drive-thru’s, comforts, and quick fixes, our attention is typically distracted by ways to cover up whatever ails us. Chances are very good that if we stop and think about it a bit that our various coping mechanisms are simply colorful band-aids that have covered our wound but not truly tended to the source of the pain.

Healing, especially of a spiritual sort, often takes time, presence, awareness, attention, and a balm that prevents further dis-ease in our soul. Wounds can be superficial, or quite deep and lasting, and they need to be addressed with a balm rather than simply a band-aid. The trouble is that we often don’t put in the work, and we don’t allow for the space and time necessary for true healing to take place.

Have you been wounded spiritually? Do you have cuts and scrapes in your soul which haven’t been addressed and have led to lingering dis-ease of your spirit?

How are you making space for healing to occur? How are you giving your wounds their proper attention and presence rather than covering it?

Let’s make_space together through Spiritual Direction. Let’s sit together and take the necessary steps toward truly healing the wounds of your spirit. You need balm, not just a band-aid.