It’s quite possible I may have learned a tiny truth that will now allow me to live without intensive self loathing. It was sort of my “Ahh Ha” moment. I’ve been broken inside so long I really don’t remember when I was whole for the very last time. I may not care so much anymore. No really. I mean it.
I’ve felt broken in such a fierce manner; there’s no way to put myself back together. It’s an impossible task. Frankly I’d given up on it. I even lived hopeless for a long while.
I’m more like a pile of crumbles vs big pieces that can be glued back together. Have you ever dropped a plate, had it break into three or four pieces, knowing it COULD be glued, resembling the object it once was? Maybe it was mom’s vase, when dropped there was a chance the glued pieces would take shape again, even if it never held water, and would LOOK like it was a whole? Yeah, well that’s not the kind of broken I’m talking about.
I’m talking about shattered. The kind of broken where the pieces are more like handfuls of tiny shards, broken glass fragments, random, tiny, and shapeless; resembling nothing of the object that once was. THIS kind of broken is a near impossible task to reassemble and have it look “good as new”.
This is how my insides feel. My soul just a waste bin of swept up dusty bits.
I have felt defeated by the impossible task of gluing my life back together and I’ve beaten myself down with this knowledge. It’s impossible to walk through this world and not end up a bit fractured, injured, or broken in some way. I’m not sure why I’ve been so self loathing about this fact. No one gets out unscathed in life. It’s a simple fact. It’s just easy to be mad about it and turn the mad on myself.
Sunday I was sitting in church. I was listening but I was tired. I will admit my mind was wandering a bit and I was fiddling with the edge of my blouse when something caught my ear. Pastor Tommy said, “shattered broken glass,” in the midst of a point and it became the focus of the message. He described how a beautiful glass object reflected light. He talked about more things, but what hit me fast and hard, and made my mind freeze in one place, was when he added that, “when glass is broken, MORE light is reflected in the angles and the tiny pieces. The brokenness is more reflective than it ever was when it was whole.”
My mind began to spin with that phrase. My heart was grabbing onto it like a dehydrated wanderer in the desert. God began filling my soul with truths. The reason I can’t fix myself is because I’m simply not meant to. While my brokenness may not be ideal, I will arrange the pieces back into a new pattern and maybe even just a pile. I am not to be the original version of myself. I need to be authentic and real. I need to be who I am right now, even the broken version, and be true to it. I can be even better, reflecting more, brighter, dazzling even, if I remain in the new shattered truth.
Glass can only reflect what it’s surrounded with. It’s important to keep the focus not on the brokenness itself, but assuring it’s not ugliness or dull darkness as the only reflection in the angles and cuts of the shards. Keep the end goal in mind as I turn my face upward and it will be Him who is reflected in me, not the trials and the pain or the hardships.
As odd as it feels to say it, I’m going to keep my broken self and own it. The light reflecting off the broken bits in my life has already been used in ways I never could have imagined, in ways not possible, if I wasn’t a messed up, broken pile of glass.
I’ll work on improving myself, creating new parts of me, allowing my authentic self to shine through the tough times in new ways. I will not continue to harp on my failures to be whole or to have broken under the weight of some pretty harsh moments, and to not have been perfect.
Like shattered, broken glass, when the light from above shines down on me, I want only to be reflective of the light He provides.