No, no.  It’s not what you’re thinking.
I had to come up with some catchy title to lure readers today, being that I’m not writing about bacon again this time.

I am a cracked pot, though.  And so are you.

My life is an open book…or so I thought.  I am strikingly honest and open about my feelings and life experiences.  In fact, I tend to overshare.  My poor husband will certainly attest to this.  On a fairly regular basis, unfortunately, following a somewhat self-directed discourse, I find myself worrying, thinking to myself, “Darling, perhaps that may have been just a tad too much information for the innocent soul on the other end of the conversation.”  Whether or not my fears and worries surrounding my profound inability to hold back are valid, I have always felt like by allowing others to see my vulnerabilities and imperfections, life becomes that much more real.  I appreciate this trait in others as well.

I return to my opening statement – “My life is an open book…OR SO I THOUGHT.”  Upon reading and studying an online forum response yesterday, I came to the realization that there really are deep, dark secrets lurking inside that I have never shared, simply out of fear that no one else would truly understand.  I am not as exposed as I thought.  The suggestion that anyone else survives with similar chattels has always been absolutely inconceivable to me, until yesterday.  As I read this woman’s account, the gifted and detailed description of her thought process, her actions, her movements –  the secrets inside began to unzip, spilling forth small pebbles of heartache.  The ache came from grasping the fact that someone else really has felt and experienced this unbearable pain, not just me.  But as the pebbles spilled forth, so too came an amazing sense of relief that there really IS someone on earth that understands – that knows.  She knows just what I know.    Thank you, Amy.  You are so very brave.  Thank you in so many more ways than one.

More than that, others responded.  There are not just two.  There are more.

We know.

What we know, may never disappear, but I also know that there IS Freedom and there IS Light.  It’s there.  It’s waiting to be received.  The Light is simply waiting for the invitation to come inside.

It’s through all the cracks in our being that the Light is able to shine.

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I have so many cracks – so many – and more and more Light shines through each and every day.  It’s possible, Amy.  The Light IS shining through you – it is beginning to fill the space inside.

We are created for breakthroughs.

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Beautiful.  Brilliant.

2 thoughts on “I’m a Cracked Pot”

  1. Ashley, Thanks for sharing your light! It is comforting being reminded the LIGHT shines through our cracks, flaws and brokeness. If the pot breaks, can take comfort that we are clay in the makers hand … And we are being shaped uniquely for a purpose! Roger

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