As my years on this planet have accumulated, so has the stuff I’ve amassed. Even though I’ve made numerous attempts at “downsizing,” my success is always short lived and short of any sense of minimalism. I’m still hanging onto stuff because of my sentimentalism and sense of sacredness for things that remind me of those who I love. Especially for those who are no longer in my world; this world.
One of those memorabilia materials is my grandmother Young’s teapot. An item that looks like something a women who passed away over fifty years ago would own. An aesthetic whose time, like my grandmother, has passed.
Muted honeysuckle branches of soft green and pale lavender embellishing its off-white surface. It edges etched in gold filigree from top to bottom. German manufacturer markings stamped on the base, along with a red and gold crown. Proof of its royal European pedigree.
I don’t remember how I ended up in possession of this porcelain pourer but here it is. Sitting on a shelf in my office, surrounded by books, picture books and pictures. Every shelf a road trip down recollection road or memory lane. Distance that only increases with my travel through time.
A journey that has brought me to now, a journey that will eventually bring me to a new now. A journey that will ultimately bring me to forever. A journey that only Love can lead us too.
This teapot is of little value in a world where convenience is prioritized over cozy connections. No one takes time for tea parties or afternoon socials. Instead, we opt for drive throughs or an instant something; something that tastes like something that was created in an instance.
There are many days when I feel like my grandmother’s little teapot. Not just short and stout, but missing a life that was all about clout. Even if that past life was one of spiritual drought.
That dry spell ending when I moved to the desert; rinsed in the rains of God’s grace. Aroused from my spiritual slumber; knowing the Truth of all reality. My heart no longer an empty teakettle, but bubbling and brimming with the Spirit of love. God is love.
My heart finds little value in what this world has to offer, and the world finds little value in a heart that’s not all about this world. Like an empty teapot whose earthly purpose is extraneous. Like an empty teapot evading extinction.
I know with certainty and conviction that my life, like yours, is more valuable than any teapot. The good Shepherd pursuing this lost lamb, rescuing my life from death. Something that I cannot make happen for my grandmother’s teapot, let alone my own life.
Even during these times of testing, when I feel like a teapot that no one wants, I know that God wants me to pursue my path to publication. Proclaiming His love in what I write and sharing my words with a world in need of heavenly love, kindness and generosity. Even if the world doesn’t understand their value; like an unwanted teapot.
It’s been over three years since my spiritual awakening and starting my memoir. A memoir anticipating an end of summer release. A memoir thanking God. A memoir declaring that every human is valuable, and no human is ever alone. A memoir to inspire all people that they are wanted and loved by God even when the world says otherwise.
Like my own life, I don’t know what the future holds for my grandmother’s teapot. Unlike my own life, I know that my grandmother’s teapot will eventually be crushed by time. Like my life, and your life, choosing Love will rescue us from death. Unlike a teapot or any worldly object, we are irreplaceable simply because we are loved by God.
Peace. God loves you.