Picking Up The Pieces…
Mark spoke this past Sunday about being broken for God. Obviously I have heard this before and I am sure, like many of you – can oh so relate to being broken… again…. and again… and again.
This message has stuck with me through out the begining of this week and I find myself thinking about the many times I have been broken and with that always came drastic and major changes. Heck, I was broken before I even knew what broken was.
I think back to the first major brokeness on my life which was the loss of my father and sister in the house fire. Our whole life changed. We had no home, we moved to Alaska for a year where I completed the 9th grade… we eventually rebuilt – not only a home… but a life of broken pieces that we desperately attempted to put back together… with very little God.
The second large brokeness came 16 years later when mom and Richard died in the car accident in 1996. Again I am picking up shattered pieces (I can think of no better way to describe this) and trying to move on – again with very little God… and walking forward on very shaky ground. I can hardly tell you what that first year was like. This resulted in another major move – to my parents home where Al and I raised our two boys and began again. This time however – we were searching and we were being Called… but we really didn’t know Who was calling…
The third big time I found myself broken was when my best friend of many years chose to walk away from our friendship. She was like a sister to me and the pain of losing that friendship was as real as losing a real sister. This time however… through the pain I found God. And through God I was able to look back at my life and see my path – broken and jagged… yet slowly moving towards Him.
My heart, I am certain, is a patched up broken mess that looks like a thrown out road map… but circling it now… are God’s Hands… holding it all together. For this I am eternally grateful.
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