Resculpturing Peita

There may be a few people in this world who have been blessed with a solid, spiritual upbringing in a Christian home and who, because of wise parents and wise choices, have led outstanding moral and spiritual lives. Sure, they've made mistakes and have sinned; all have sinned (Rom. 3:23), but they've not been through the "valley of the shadow of death," so to speak (Ps. 23).

But most people have been raised in a home where God's standard was not upheld as it should have been, and therefore most people have memories of a dysfunctional home and/or very poor choices that have resulted in some degree of chaos in their lives and that have left scars. Then there are those who, despite having been raising in a "Christian home" still dealt with their fair share of dysfunction and chaos.

As adults, if we're in the latter category, and again, most of us are, we struggle in many ways (sometimes overtly, sometimes subtly) to find healing and to move forward. Even grown Christians are weighed down by this baggage to such an extent that it impedes their pursuit of total self-sacrifice (Rom. 12:1-2).

I found this quote in a book I'm reading called "Making Peace With Your Past." I think it applies to what I'm talking about here:

"When a fanatic dealt several damaging blows to Michelangelo's Pieta, the world was horrified. It surprised no one when the world's best artists assembled to refashion the disfigured masterpiece. 

When sculptors arrived in Italy, they didn't begin repairing the marred face immediately. Rather they spent months looking at the Pieta, touching the flowing lines, appreciating the way each part expressed suffering yet ecstasy. Some spent months studying a single part such as the hand until finally the sculptors began to see more and more with the eyes of Michelangelo and to touch and feel as the master artist would have done. When the sculptors finally began repairing the face, the strokes belonged almost as much to Michelangelo as to themselves. 

Not Michelangelo but rather God's sculpturing hand fashioned us from soil-dust into a masterpiece which surpassed even the Pieta (Gen. 2:7). It should not surprise us that God constantly refashions us - that as soon as we disfigure ourselves, He's already sculpturing the pieces back together. 

When we ask for healing, we shouldn't immediately rush into it. Rather, we should start knowing ourselves as does our Sculptor. We don't see the depth of our need for healing until we know our infinite value. The least self-centered blow destroys more than any blow to the Pieta. "We are God's work of art created in Christ to live the good life as from the beginning He meant us to live it" (Eph. 2:8). When we thank God for the gifts He gives us, we begin to see ourselves no longer from our own eyes but from His. If we know our giftedness, then we know how we require healing and thus we can become all that our sculptor envisions." 

(Matthew L. Linn and D. Linn, Healing of Memories, 11-12)