Restored by Grace

Restored by Grace

In the quiet corner of my bathroom, beside my soaker tub, sat a statue of a woman. Three feet tall, graceful in form—it had once belonged to my aunt, poised delicately behind her own jacuzzi tub, always holding a towel in her elegantly arched arm. It was more than décor. It was history. Memory. Presence.
One evening, after a peaceful bath, I draped my towel over her head—a simple gesture that turned to despair. My miniature schnauzer, with all the intensity of a playful heart, tugged at the towel, causing the statue to tip and fall. In a single instant, she was reduced to shards—large and tiny. I was crushed. You can’t replace things like that. They come to you once, then become part of your story.
Days passed. I couldn’t bring myself to throw it away. I swept up the pieces, set them aside on the porch, unsure what to do. And then—divine help. A woman from church heard the tale and said “Bring it to me,” I like fixing things.
What happened next was nothing short of miraculous. In days, she handed it back—whole. Flawlessly restored. No gaps. No holes. She had filled the empty spaces with care, skill, and love.
I looked at that statue and saw myself. How often do we feel shattered, unable to be made new? Life breaks us—through grief, betrayal, fear, failure. But in the hands of the Lord, no shard is useless. He gathers every part of us, even the tiniest fragments, and with holy patience, restores. His filler is grace. His glue is mercy. And when He’s done, you aren’t just repaired—you are renewed.

Thou, which hast shewed me great and sore troubles, shalt quicken me again, and shalt bring me up again from the depths of the earth. Ps 71:20

Blessings