Just like popping noises mean bad things for enamel, crackling sounds as you cool a fused glass piece down can signal disaster. Last night, I put a piece in the kiln that I worked really hard on. It was already on its second life. My plan called for a circle of this really cool blue and green swirled glass with a white Pegasus flying across it. When I cut the circle of blue, it cracked. I estimate about a quarter of the circles I cut from glass crack in at least two pieces. It is very discouraging when you get the circle scored but as you break it free from the rest of the glass, a portion of it breaks off. It usually is whole all except for a corner of a side. I learned that if I add more breaks to the circle, then, place it upon another circle of glass, when it is fused, even though the pieces draw slightly apart, it looks as though I intended for those cracks to be there. Again, I embrace the error and make something pretty out of what could have been a failure. So I layered the blue circle, now cut into five pieces on top of a piece of clear and then, put the Pegasus on top of that. Funny thing, when I fused the glass together, the cracks “healed” in several places. I think it is because the white the Pegasus shape held the blue glass together while they fused back into one. I was pretty happy with how it came out and put it into a mold to slump into a bowl. Then, while I was cooling the kiln, I heard some crackling noises. I didn’t have time to see what happened before I had to close the lid to keep the glass from cooling too fast. All night long, I tossed and turned sure that when I opened the kiln this morning, the bowl would be in a million shards. After all that work. After that promise of healing and beauty, it made me sick to think it might be ruined anyway. Instead, I was pleasantly surprised to discover a perfectly shaped bowl. I’m quite happy with it and hope the gallery I will be taking it to will be as well. That experience gave me a lot to think about. First, the reminder not to give up right away when I think I have made a mistake. Frequently, I’m a mess, too, but I am thankful that God doesn’t give up on me. He embraces my errors and makes me whole again. Secondly, how many times do I lay awake beating myself up for the failures I think I have made? I am sure that I said the wrong thing, did the wrong thing, acted the wrong way. Yet, in the morning, I find my fears were simply from looking at things with the wrong perspective. In the light of day, everything is right again.