This is small section of an art piece by Sono Osato. She created it by gathering discarded objects from the streets of lower Manhattan and then embedding them in beeswax, paint and asphalt.
There are so many things hidden in the chaos of it when viewed from a distance.
Lost and discarded objects that once had a connection to a human life…or lives.
Up close, I see…
A belt buckle. A hinge. A razor blade. A button.
Keys, lots of keys.
And a nail on a red background.
“This could be the art piece of my own life,” I thought.
I saw the hidden objects as buried stories of connections to people, events, and sorrows.
The button torn from a favorite childhood dress.
The razor blade held in the trembling hands of those who threatened to die.
The hinge from the locked door of my frightened heart before God.
The keys to that door…so many keys…that I had thrown away in my lost youth.
A nail, still covered in the blood of sacrifice, that finally set me free…
This is beauty from brokenness — up close.
Later, as I looked back at the pictures, I saw this art piece from a distance once more.
This time, the focus shifted outward from self, to a broader, more encompassing vision of the hidden beauty in the chaos of life…
I saw the young girls who just lost the buttons on their favorite childhood dress this week, and became enslaved in sex trafficking.
I saw the abused women who still bear the welts from the buckle of their abuser on the flesh of their hearts.
And I saw the prodigals…the sons and daughters who have been lost in the chaos of life…some discarded, some who ran far away, some afraid, and some simply unnoticed and neglected.
These are the lost ones, still out there in the streets, waiting for us to see.
Waiting for us to notice them and see, really see, the art piece God intended them to be.
Waiting for us to show them the blood-stained nail we carry in our hearts. To open our arms, enfold them in an embrace, and celebrate.
What was lost can be found.
Make it so Lord, make it so.
He had this moment of self-reflection: “What am I doing here? Back home, my father’s hired servants have plenty of food. Why am I here starving to death? I’ll get up and return to my father, and I’ll say, ‘Father, I have done wrong—wrong against God and against you. I have forfeited any right to be treated like your son, but I’m wondering if you’d treat me as one of your hired servants?’”
So he got up and returned to his father. The father looked off in the distance and saw the young man returning. He felt compassion for his son and ran out to him, enfolded him in an embrace, and kissed him.
The son said, “Father, I have done a terrible wrong in God’s sight and in your sight too. I have forfeited any right to be treated as your son.”
But the father turned to his servants and said, “Quick! Bring the best robe we have and put it on him. Put a ring on his finger and shoes on his feet. Go get the fattest calf and butcher it. Let’s have a feast and celebrate because my son was dead and is alive again.
He was lost and has been found.”
Luke 15:17-24 The Voice
Click the photos to read previous Beauty from Brokenness posts.
The Hidden Chair
The Life Quilt
The Bullies Were Wrong
The Becoming of an Artist