Dear one, you are beautiful, even in your imperfections.
They are beautiful.
You protest, "How can a broken vessel be beautiful for it's brokenness?"
But believe me Love, you are.
Your life has been a series of events which etched your perfect enamel,
creating faults and weaknesses that the Enemy was quick to exploit in his efforts to break you,
and break you he did.
And so you lay, sharp shards scattered across the floor, and many tried to fix you.
But as their hands were cut and bled from the wounds inflicted by your rough edges,
they swept you up and all attempted to discard you. All but one.
The Potter, your maker, refuses to see his work discarded.
So he, though his hands are hard and calloused from injury, gathers the shards with careful hands.
He arranges your pieces with nimble fingers, and although you look similar, you will never be the same.
Light and water would leak through deep valleys and pits, and in your mind, you are useless.
But piece by piece, you have been restored.
Every crack filled, but not with glue or wet clay leaving scars in its wake.
He restored you with Gold.
You have been desperately broken, but now you are more beautiful.
You are the testimony of your creator's skill and patience.
In your faults, He is glorified, and you are BEAUTIFUL.