Living Without the Crack

~ a continuation to Confessions from the Cracked Pot ~

The sound of the trumpets, lyres, and tambourines filled my heart with joy, knowing that the song they were playing was for me.

A celebration of my return… of my freedom… of my wholeness.

I still could not believe that I am not a cracked pot anymore.

“I knew you’d make it,” someone said from behind me. It was a voice so familiar that my thoughts froze in an instant.

“The Sailor?” I  whispered my thoughts, bewildered.

“Indeed, I am.” He smiled and sat down beside me by the shore. I didn’t know if it was me, or it just got colder. Was I seeing the Sailor’s ghost? Did I not survive the fire from the pirate’s boat? Did I die with the Sailor?

“Yes. You, my dear pot, died with me.” He answered, hearing my thoughts. Only Him and the Potter could do that. “You died with me, but contrary to what you think, you have survived the fire.”

“Dying, my friend, is not the same as losing.”

“So… that means, I am now a ghost?” I dared ask, disappointment slowly creeping in my heart.

He just laughed at my question. “It seems that you have listened to a lot of ghost stories while you were there in another land.” He lightly shook his head, still smiling. “I was not talking about physical death, for you are still fully alive.”

“Your past. It was the one that died with me that day.”

“I see… so I survived the fire.” He nodded in response, and I relaxed in relief.

“But… I saw you die, physically! How come you can still talk to me, and touch me?”

He took some time before answering, his eyes watching the waves as they softly touch the sand.

“There is a Love that exists that can conquer death and grave. That greatest form of Love is in my very being.”

In silence, I waited for his next words. The joyful sound of the instruments faded in my ears, and all I could hear was His voice.

“My dear friend, I love you, as my Father loves you… and this Love has conquered death so that I may live, not only with you, but here…” He pointed the spot where there was once a heart-shaped crack. “Within you…”

My heart throbbed though I could not fully comprehend the words of the Potter’s Son.

I am loved… and I think knowing that is enough… for now.

After a long, reassuring silence, he spoke again.

“Dear pot, it is time that you learn to live without your crack.” The Sailor slowly rose to his feet as he said this.  “We’ll talk again, sometime.”

He turned and walked from the shore.


Daily Prompt: Cheering Section


7 thoughts on “Living Without the Crack

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