I dreamt I was with Jesus on a sunlit shore, and in His right hand was a fragile earthenware jar, bearing a Mosaic pattern. It appeared weather-beaten and mottled; a large deep cleft and blemishes of countless jagged lines and fine cracks.
One small piece, the lightest on the face of the jar was far smoother than the rest... it appeared untouched.
You were about to ask, “What on earth is the meaning of this?” Let me explain...
The corroded appearance is all the times you've been hot and cold...
a steady diet of milk and honey with a side order of locusts... you can only go on so long like that before you crack. You can't profess to be on fire for Me and give someone the cold shoulder, or give an icy, sardonic stare of disapproval.
This fissure is your own personal Grand Canyon... a gaping wound in your unsettled soul. Its depth has grown over the years because you have been unwilling to forgive.
That's not a river at the bottom... that a knotted root of bitterness... hardening of the arteries.
The jagged lines are every broken promise, given or received... every fractured and severed relationship, every disappointment, every disillusionment, every disenchantment. Though they are the most obvious defects, you have never seen them for what they are... your character flaws... and these crimson stains are your sins...
The fine cracks are scars of past wounds, hurts and losses. They look fine on the surface, but they run deep, and in many directions... these are the areas of your life that are mostly healed.
This small piece... this one piece... is the most valuable of all. It is how much you have given your life to Me. So far, it's all I've had to work with... but greater than that... it's this small, light piece that I died for...
If you hold it up to the Light, you'll see it has my fingerprints all over it...
“May I ask, What do you plan to do with the jar?”
With your permission, break it, and make a lamp out of this small piece.
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