It’s nothing new for me to tell you that I’m broken. That I’ve been shattered into a million pieces over and over and have been trying to put myself back together. I feel like a broken vase. Beautifully painted, handcrafted and loved … scattered across the floor in a million jagged pieces. When Owen died, I was in a million pieces, all about the floor. I started to slowing and steadily glue back together my pieces. Sometimes it took me a while to find where a piece went .. but I didn’t give up until I found the right place. I found that there were even pieces that were totally missing – I had to find something else to fit there.
Again and again a hammer enters into your world – shattering what you knew to be comfortable and safe. It smashes all the delicate parts of you … breaks all the prettiness. And you are left to pick yourself back up and carry on. Glue yourself back together. Find all the pieces of you that had fit so perfectly and find a new way for everything to fit.
I don’t know about you .. but the past is comfortable … even if it’s a painful past. Sort of like its more comfortable to fight than to sit in the silence. At least there was interaction … even if it was negative. I tell myself over and over, reminding myself not to go back to my “old ways.” Learn from your mistakes – don’t let history repeat itself. We’ve all been told that at one point or another.
The hammer can’t put back together the broken vase. Old ways won’t make the pain go away – it won’t fix anything. It’s repeating what didn’t work.
So how do you chose a new path? How do you make sure you move forward rather than just break yourself over and over again? Do something different. Listen to that little voice telling you it’s not a good idea. Listen to your heart that hurts and tend to your spirit. Journal about something before making any decisions. Confide in a trusted friend.
You are precious – delicate – a favorite hand-painted ceramic vase in God’s china cabinet. You are loved and a prized possession. You will be shattered. You will be broken. Every last one of us is broken. God takes great joy and care in helping us mend our broken spirits. Just as a parent tends to scraped knees with care and love.
Each crack brings strength and unique beauty. It tells our story. Zoom out on a glued together vase – the cracks are like a road map. They show where we have been – where we came from – what we have endured. The cracks becomes part of our beautiful design. Resist the old ways – hold strong to the truth and love yourself enough to choose something better. You deserve it.
Wonderfully written as usual! Amazing lady you are.
You are wise beyond your years and i can identify with you in certain aspects. You say it so beautifully and i look forward to your philosophy’s and carefully selected words of strength.
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