Our home is simple, cozy, and filled with treasures that tell stories of our world travels and of the people and places who have shaped our lives. We value experiences over things; however, some things are very special to us because they remind us of those experiences. Some of our favorite pieces are the traditional mortar and pestle sets from 5 different continents that are perched on our living room shelves. The beautifully painted wooden pieces take us back to the many years we passed through busy marketplaces in Peru and Ecuador en route to providing medical care in the jungle. The smooth olive wooden piece sparks memories of our incredible honeymoon in Greece. The large piece adorned with an elephant transports me back to adventurous days in Thailand, where I visited my sister while she and her family lived in Chiang Mai. The intricately carved wooden pieces are reminiscent of the blessed days we spent in Togo and Zimbabwe, Africa, serving alongside some of the most compassionate people we know. The ceramic piece was a gift from my father, an original American-made that is a century old and signifies the heritage I carry as a pharmacist.
Leather-bound photo albums are scattered throughout our shelves and hold priceless memories that range from adventures in Paris, Rome, and Brussels with my mom and sister as well as the summer I spent living in Albania, where my heart was captivated by the Romani children. A framed photo of beautiful Togolese children carrying water on their head is an image I captured while in western Africa. Next to this photo sit two round hollowed out shells that are attached to a long string - these are water-carrying gourds from the Napo province of Ecuador that were gifts from a tribal ambassador, who welcomed our medical team during a traditional ceremony.
Spaced throughout these treasures are distinct black and white pottery that we've collected during 5 different trips to South America. This pottery is specific to the regions of Peru and Ecuador we've visited on trips that have shaped us profoundly as individuals and as a couple. Our faith has been stretched as we've seen literal miracles, as we've been humbled by the incredible hospitality of people who are generous beyond their means, and as we've learned that there's so much more to practicing medicine than our western culture has taught us. These pottery pieces are symbolic in so many ways, and no two pieces are the same. Short round vases, small decorative plates, and tall cylindrical pieces punctuate the white space on our shelves and mantle.
You can imagine our disappointment one day, when I went to re-decorate the mantle above the fireplace only to discover that a large piece had been broken off of one of the vases! The vase was turned just exactly so the broken side wasn't visible from the front, and the broken piece had been mysteriously placed inside the vase - perhaps a result of a dusting incident? I was disturbed by the fact that no mention had been made of this by the perpetrator, and even more sad that this vase was irreplaceable. This vase had been purchased in a marketplace in Lima, Peru - near the place where we purchased my husband's wedding ring. Peru holds so many memories for us and is a significant part of our story together.
I mentioned the broken vase to a dear friend of mine who would understand the significance of this loss, as Peru also holds a special place in her heart. She empathized with me and acknowledged that she would have been upset also.
Months went by, and I thought I was finally over the sting of this incident. However, while hosting new visitors in our home, I found myself telling them about the broken vase while giving a tour of our treasures. Clearly, I was still bothered by this irreplaceable broken vase and the memory that it was tied to...
The very next day, I came home from work to a package on the front porch with an unsigned notecard that simply read:
Curiosity surged through my mind as I carefully unwrapped the Spanish newsprint that surrounded a heavy object.
When I pulled out the object, the tears welled up in my eyes. I was speechless.
It was a black and white vase just like the one that had been broken.
Who in the world had tracked down a near exact replica of the original vase and so thoughtfully put it on my front porch!? Who, but God, would go to the ends of the earth to replace a memory that was so special to me?!
As it turned out, my dear friend - who I had told months prior about this this broken treasure - had just returned from a trip to Peru, where she found herself in the marketplace in Lima, surrounded by likely hundreds of the signature black and white pottery of all shapes and sizes. Not having any idea of what shape or size my broken pottery was, God prompted her to select one she felt drawn to that would also fit neatly in her suitcase so that she could bring it back to me. Little did she know, I had just been lamenting about this broken vase the day before she delivered it.
And little did she know, it was a near replica of the one that had been broken.
Now, every time I walk past these vases, I think about their profound similarity to our lives. When things in our lives are broken - whether slightly cracked or completely shattered into a million pieces, we can depend on the faithfulness of God, who like a potter molds us and puts us back together. He never promised that we will live an unblemished life; rather, our good Father picks up the pieces and makes all things new again. I'm thankful for the friends God places in our lives, and especially for those who hear His voice so clearly. And I'm thankful that He is such a personal God that sometimes He literally shows up on our front porch with a piece of His love!
Leather-bound photo albums are scattered throughout our shelves and hold priceless memories that range from adventures in Paris, Rome, and Brussels with my mom and sister as well as the summer I spent living in Albania, where my heart was captivated by the Romani children. A framed photo of beautiful Togolese children carrying water on their head is an image I captured while in western Africa. Next to this photo sit two round hollowed out shells that are attached to a long string - these are water-carrying gourds from the Napo province of Ecuador that were gifts from a tribal ambassador, who welcomed our medical team during a traditional ceremony.
You can imagine our disappointment one day, when I went to re-decorate the mantle above the fireplace only to discover that a large piece had been broken off of one of the vases! The vase was turned just exactly so the broken side wasn't visible from the front, and the broken piece had been mysteriously placed inside the vase - perhaps a result of a dusting incident? I was disturbed by the fact that no mention had been made of this by the perpetrator, and even more sad that this vase was irreplaceable. This vase had been purchased in a marketplace in Lima, Peru - near the place where we purchased my husband's wedding ring. Peru holds so many memories for us and is a significant part of our story together.
I mentioned the broken vase to a dear friend of mine who would understand the significance of this loss, as Peru also holds a special place in her heart. She empathized with me and acknowledged that she would have been upset also.
Months went by, and I thought I was finally over the sting of this incident. However, while hosting new visitors in our home, I found myself telling them about the broken vase while giving a tour of our treasures. Clearly, I was still bothered by this irreplaceable broken vase and the memory that it was tied to...
The very next day, I came home from work to a package on the front porch with an unsigned notecard that simply read:
Curiosity surged through my mind as I carefully unwrapped the Spanish newsprint that surrounded a heavy object.
When I pulled out the object, the tears welled up in my eyes. I was speechless.
It was a black and white vase just like the one that had been broken.
Who in the world had tracked down a near exact replica of the original vase and so thoughtfully put it on my front porch!? Who, but God, would go to the ends of the earth to replace a memory that was so special to me?!
As it turned out, my dear friend - who I had told months prior about this this broken treasure - had just returned from a trip to Peru, where she found herself in the marketplace in Lima, surrounded by likely hundreds of the signature black and white pottery of all shapes and sizes. Not having any idea of what shape or size my broken pottery was, God prompted her to select one she felt drawn to that would also fit neatly in her suitcase so that she could bring it back to me. Little did she know, I had just been lamenting about this broken vase the day before she delivered it.
And little did she know, it was a near replica of the one that had been broken.
Now, every time I walk past these vases, I think about their profound similarity to our lives. When things in our lives are broken - whether slightly cracked or completely shattered into a million pieces, we can depend on the faithfulness of God, who like a potter molds us and puts us back together. He never promised that we will live an unblemished life; rather, our good Father picks up the pieces and makes all things new again. I'm thankful for the friends God places in our lives, and especially for those who hear His voice so clearly. And I'm thankful that He is such a personal God that sometimes He literally shows up on our front porch with a piece of His love!
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