Living with Brokenness

I was on a mission. My son had received a coveted Minecraft poster for his birthday. After tracking down a frame to fit its odd shape, I asked my husband to mount the hardware on the back. Two days passed when my (notoriously short) patience wore out and I decided to attempt the job myself. I just needed to screw in the hooks and attach the wire, how hard could that be?

I consider myself a pretty resourceful woman. I know how to use a drill to make starter holes for screws, but naturally there were no fully charged drills to be found. And I certainly couldn’t wait around for something to charge! My conclusion: if I put enough pressure on the screw, I could make my own hole. And it actually worked...on the first side, anyway. The force of my second attempt was too great, and my screwdriver went sliding across the frame’s edge onto the plastic cover and I heard a crunch. Then I heard a scream. It came from my mouth. I literally cried out in frustration. I was so close to being done and I had messed it up. I reluctantly turned over the frame and, sure enough, there was a huge crack right on the edge of the plastic. I had broken it, and I was mad.

My first thoughts were to place blame. “If HE would’ve done this when I asked him, this never would have happened!” Then a wave of negative self-talk: “I shouldn’t have even tried this, what was I thinking? I’m such a klutz.” I had a choice to make here. Was I going to place the blame or accept the situation and move on? I chose to move on, which in my mind meant trying to fix it.

Plans were immediately underway to buy a replacement piece of plastic. Since the frame was an odd size, it wouldn’t be easy. I’d probably have to order it or have it custom cut somewhere. How expensive would it be? When would I get it done? I needed another errand like a hole in the head.

Suddenly, I felt my thoughts being blocked. It was as if God were saying, “Stop. You don’t need to fix this. Move on and learn from it.” Huh? Leave the plastic broken? Well that’s just ridiculous, I am a fixer! A problem solver! A mess-cleaner-upper! “No,” He said, “leave it. Life is messy.” At that moment, the message was clear as day to me--sometimes life is broken and we can’t make it go away. It’s part of our story and we need to embrace it rather than try to hide it. When left to our own resources we can’t handle the cracks. We will react with anger, throw a tantrum, cry or blame anyone and everyone, including ourselves. But with God’s help, we can live with the mess and see it as a reminder of how He has healed us. His love and mercy can overpower the brokenness and help us see past it. It’s still there, it still happened, but He can bring us through stronger on the other side.

That poster is still hanging on my son’s wall. And guess what. No one else even notices the crack. But i do. And I love it because it reminds me that God will hold my hand through the messes and accept what’s broken. He alone can fix it, my Great Redeemer!