Broken and Blessed

I have a passion for broken things. The cuckoo clock that no longer calls out the hour. A music box that doesn’t play. 

I identify with such things. On the outside they look perfectly normal but inside they are damaged. I often feel that in my own life. I look in the mirror and identify with those toys whose fur has been loved off and that makes me smile. The love part that is. But mirrors don’t reflect the inside splintered pieces of our lives. The shattered heart from failed relationships or the eternal grief from loved ones gone too soon. Broken by life’s hard times. 

But in the midst of it all, I also feel blessed that I got to experience all those beautiful missing things. Love of a husband, children, parents, friends and more. Fun times at sandy beaches and sweet times sharing a meal or dancing close. Goodnight kisses and bedtime prayers and watching children grow inch by inch—choice by choice. 

I miss the laughter that used to bounce off the walls of my house and the joy of waiting on the front porch for a yellow school bus to deliver my precious cargo home. I miss happy back door greetings at just the right time, feeling the love as my husband walked inside before I even saw his face. 

I miss joy in these moments and sometimes feel totally broken. But thankfully I have a God who specializes in broken things. He uses love as the power of healing. Inside my heart is a place where Jesus lives. He calls to me in the lonely night saying, “I will never leave you or forsake you. You are mine. No one can take you out of my hands.” My name is tattooed on his hand and he calls me “Daughter.” He blesses all the broken parts of my life. Holding me as I cry, even treasuring my tears in a keepsake vessel. Healing me with love.

However, my heart and mind can’t always sense this. But strange as it may seem, with my Savior’s love, I can feel “broken and blessed” at the same time.