I was not happy when a cat who persistently declared my table for a perch, knocked over one of my pots. The result was, broken pieces. Then a new pot was found for the plant.
Broken.
Broken pieces.
How many times we realize that so much of what happens we didn't ask for or would ever wish for. Life has moments of being shattered.
In the age of middle school, I find myself the brunt and exclusion of relationships. It takes its toll on my heart and I begin to believe many things about me and make my own interpretations of what is going on.
Yes, many of them were false, lies that bound my heart and mind and bent me to live in protection mode and scared to be.
That transitioned to high school and even into youth years.
Broken. In a negative and damaging way.
In a moment our lives can be altered. It can be a phone call. A second that forever changes what is to what was. Discovering a secret that devastates. The diagnosis that we never wanted to hear. Or it can even be the slow erosion of steady dripping of negativity, rejection.
Life altering. Life changing.
Life was shattered and broken many years ago, with the first bite of the fruit that was forbidden. Peace and beauty were marred. Life was forever altered.
Pain, tears, shame, and a myriad of other hard entered our stories, leaving their mark.
Broken pieces are difficult. They're difficult to accept and we grasp and wrestle for our original state. We want life to be as was... perfect.
Broken pieces often happen as a result of someone else, something out of our control or making. But sometimes it is our choosing, our own making.
The reality is, that this side of heaven it will never be perfect. Perfect was forever broken this side of heaven. But God promises to redeem. To redeem all things for good. Yes, even the most horrific, given into the hands of our Heavenly Father, can redeem our hearts.
Redeemed.
Roadways in wildernesses. Rivers in deserts.
Broken to be Redeemed.
How I love that word. All brokenness does not need to be an end in itself. It's not meant to be. God, from the moment that fruit eating incident happened, had a plan of redemption.
He promised Jesus. A Saviour. A Redeemer.
Immanuel means God with us.
God sent a piece of Himself. Before Jesus came to earth, in Isaiah, God promises to be with us as we walk through waters or fire.
God promises to walk with us. GOD IS WITH US.
God does not keep hard or pain from us, but He promises to be with us. It's rarely around or out of a situation, but it's a way through.
The first broken hurt and I built walls and ways of coping. But there is second breaking that needs to happen and that is, the chains of lies and walls that we build and construct in our young minds and hearts. God wants us. He wants our hearts and that is the greatest redemption of any hard. Our hearts so easily attach to something other than Him, just like Eve and Adam did that one fateful day so many years ago.
We make vows and attach our hearts to things we think we can control and manage. We need to let go and find God. Trusting Him, is one of the biggest hurdles to accepting the hard and what we wish would be different.
Jesus is the Way. And when we stay with Him, searching to see Him in amongst the tears and pain, we find a way through, because He is the Way.
New.
Something new.
A new pot for my plant.
Surrender. Accepting. These are words we don't like to hear. May I lean in and whisper, "don't push them away..." Accepting what is, now and finding Jesus in the ashes and rubble, is a very hard step, but oh, so important to finding life again.
For when we find Jesus we find our way through. Jesus really does want to make roadways in wildernesses and rivers in deserts. There are many times where what once was cannot be put back together. We need a new pot.
I once was told that accepting is half the battle and I have found that to be true. As I wrestle through the pain and disappointment, the battle is to accept the reality of broken pieces.
We can stand and stare at them. We can stomp our foot and raise our fists and shout, "This isn't fair! I don't want this to be part of my story!" But that won't change the reality of what lies broken at our feet.
We have two options before us.
We can sit and pout, and regale our woes to anyone who passes by or stops to ask. They may even join us and we have a swapping of stories. We may even hurl our insults to passerbys. We can hide behind the walls or keep slinging our chains of lies we constructed because in some ways that feels safer and better than being vulnerable and letting go. After all, I made them so they must be good?!?!
Or we can lift our hands to Jesus and give Him the shattered and broken pieces. Turning our heart's eyes to Him, allowing space for our tears and grief, and inviting Him to care for us and to redeem. To repent of how and what we built to protect and manage us and turn to Him, trusting Him.
Most times we need to accept what is instead of always pining for what was or what we think should be, to move forward and toward our Father.
And in whatever broken you find yourself, the wrestling to deal with the pieces is never the same or a once-and-done deal. It isn't linear or in a straight line or in a box. It's jagged and misshapen. And each story is unique so each path forward is unique.
God is with each of us. Don't compare your story or journey to someone close to you. In God's time He makes all things new. Remade. Reformed. Life breathed into.
But it can't be done all the while I am resisting and hanging on to what was. It's only as I surrender what's broken and accept the He will redeem, that I find new vision and a way to take the next step.
New pots can be found and enjoyed. (But sometimes I still want my original pot!! 😉🥴😄)
Letting go allows space for new life. New joys, new gifts.
And in all reality, there will still be the space of grief that will rise to the top. But it's turning that to face our Redeemer and finding His grace and love. Finding the joys of today.
It's the posture of two hands, one holding the sorrow, the other holding the gifts, putting them to together in prayer or lifting them up to the Father, who holds all of us in His hands.
I still get annoyed thinking about that cat, but I smile and enjoy my new planted pot. And that's so much more fun than pining away for what was. It's healthier too.
(The second picture at the top is the repotted plant and I keep the broken pieces as a reminder.)
