There’s something deeply satisfying about restoring broken things. It’s like a little victory against the chaos of the world. This past week, I found myself doing exactly that—fixing not one, but three different things. A broken painting of a tree, a headless sculpture, and the holder for a toilet bidet spray (yes, the mundane things matter too).
The painting of the tree wasn’t torn, but the thick paste of the paint had dried out and started to delaminate, peeling away from the canvas in rough patches. Then there was the sculpture, a beautiful piece of art, missing its head. And finally, the bidet holder, not the most glamorous item, but essential in its own right.
Each time I set to work restoring these objects, I felt a sense of peace and satisfaction. There’s something about seeing brokenness that stirs up angst within me, a desire to fix what’s fractured. The peeling paint, the headless figure, even the broken holder—they all seemed to be calling out to be made whole again. And maybe that’s why the process of repair was so fulfilling—it brought a sense of order where there had been disorder.
But as I worked, I also realized there was a kind of beauty in the brokenness itself. These items, in their flawed state, held value precisely because they were broken. The painting told a story of time and wear, the sculpture had been shaped and reshaped, and the bidet holder, while practical, had its own history of use. By restoring them, I wasn’t just fixing them—I was giving them even more value. Their history, their imperfections, made the act of restoration even more meaningful.
In the same way, our own brokenness holds intrinsic value. Just like those objects, our flaws and struggles make us who we are. And when we’re restored in Christ, we don’t just return to our former state—we’re made even more valuable, having been shaped by the process. Psalm 23:3 says, “He restores my soul,” and with that restoration comes a greater depth, a greater beauty, than before.
“Your people will rebuild the ancient ruins and will raise up the age-old foundations;
you will be called Repairer of Broken Walls, Restorer of Streets with Dwellings.” Isaiah 58:12
So here’s to the satisfaction of fixing the things in our homes, to embracing their brokenness, and to the even greater restoration happening in our hearts and lives. The broken pieces tell a story, and when they’re restored, they tell an even richer one., that we have matured and become stronger for having overcome setbacks.
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