Finding Beauty and Strength in the Rebuild
Reflections on Healing, Wholeness, and the Stories Our Scars Tell
Yesterday, I sat down with a few members of our Community Closet team for a conversation that turned out to be surprisingly personal—and deeply meaningful. They asked about my story, curious to know more about where I come from, what led me to this work, and what fuels my passion for it.
We talked about roots—about family, calling, and experiences that shape us. One of the staff asked, “Do you like art?” It made me smile. It’s a good question. Art, to me, isn’t just about paint or pottery or photographs. It’s about meaning-making—how we make sense of the things that don’t always make sense. I’ve always been drawn to creative expression—through writing, sketching, or photography—not because I consider myself an artist, but because there’s something reflective and symbolic in the act of creating. It slows us down. It helps us notice what we might otherwise rush past. It gives form to feeling.
I shared with them one of the art forms that has moved me most: kintsugi, the Japanese practice of repairing broken pottery by mending it with gold. Rather than discarding a piece, hiding its cracks, or pretending it was never broken, kintsugi highlights the brokenness—tracing the once-shattered places with shimmering gold to reveal that the object is now more beautiful, not less, because of its brokenness.
When I first learned about kintsugi, I was in graduate school for counseling—just beginning to wrestle with what it meant to hold space for pain and to pursue healing with both compassion and curiosity. I was asking big questions: Where does healing come from? How do faith and science, spirit and body, intersect in our experiences of suffering? And how do we, as helpers, respond faithfully when someone shows up carrying the weight of the world in their heart, their mind, or their body?
What I realized then—and what that conversation reminded me of yesterday—is that healing is not about returning someone to their “original” form. It’s not about pretending the pain never happened. It’s about walking alongside people as they begin to gather the pieces of their life, and gently, lovingly, helping them mend. It’s about transformation—not into something brand new, but into something whole, something stronger, something that tells the truth about where it’s been.
In counseling, in community care, in our everyday relationships—this is what we witness over and over again. Not quick fixes, but courageous steps. Not perfection, but resilience. Not shame in the breaking, but beauty in the becoming.
I believe we are all, in some way, kintsugi people. Cracked in places. Strengthened in others. Carrying the memory of what was, and the shimmering hope of what still might be.
Reflection: Beauty from Brokenness
If you’ve ever felt broken—or wondered how the shattered pieces of your story could become something meaningful again—know this: healing and beauty following brokenness are possible.
Questions to Consider:
What parts of your story carry cracks or scars that you're still learning to hold with kindness?
Where have you seen beauty emerge from brokenness in your own life or in the life of someone you love?
How might you be called to walk alongside someone who is in a season of mending?
Spiritual Reflection: Grace in the Rebuilding
If you find yourself in a season of rebuilding—after loss, pain, or uncertainty—know that you are not alone. The work of piecing life back together can feel slow, even scary. And while we often carry the weight of healing on our own shoulders, God gently reminds us that we are not the only ones holding the pieces.
With God, healing begins in relationship. It doesn’t erase our scars or undo the breaking. Instead, it honors the places we’ve been wounded and invites us into a deeper journey. Over time, our brokenness becomes strength—not because the pain disappears, but because the grace and love we encounter in God and with others begins to transform it.
From that experience, we learn to move forward—with greater purpose, deeper compassion, and a renewed sense of belonging and hope.
So, if you are holding pieces today—your own or someone else’s—may you know this:
God desires to journey with you in the rebuilding.
Stay Connected
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💙 Join us for Taste of New Hope!
On Thursday, October 2nd from 5–8 PM at Providence Church, enjoy food from local restaurants, a silent auction, and a live auction at 7 PM—all benefiting New Hope’s Counseling Center. Proceeds make counseling more accessible for individuals and families in our community. For more information, visit: Taste of New Hope 2025 | New Hope Community Life Ministry — New Hope Community Life Ministry
🎟 Tickets: $20/person or $60/family
👉 Reserve your spot today »
By Sheila Derr, Executive Director, New Hope Community Life Ministry