Friday, March 15, 2013

Un-Mended



 The hot glue gun lay unopened in the package.
         “You can’t.”
There must be a way. I stared at the broken pieces laying on the table.  I must be tired. There has to be a way.
        You can’t”
 In the first chapter of Mended Angie tells the story of her broken pitcher and the process by which God brought healing as she glued it back together. A friend of mine read the book and broke her own pitcher, then glued it back together while God showed her special things, personally and for the Body of Christ.

I knew this was something I wanted to do in my week at home as a sort of milestone. I chose a plate rather than a pitcher under the nudge of Holy Spirit and set it aside. I had purchased the plate on one of my trips to New Mexico, carefully swaddling it in bubble wrap for the trip home. It was thick pottery with southwestern flair and a butterfly in the center.

The morning of my "pitcher" day, I woke up exhausted. Opening the Msg Bible, I turned to where I had been reading in the Psalms. Psalm 18:20 reads "God made my life complete when I placed all the pieces before Him." As I read, I knew this was the day. After taking a photo of the whole plate, I placed it in a plastic baggie, and then doubled it in a regular Target shopping bag. As I stepped out the door, I found the weather unusually warm and rainy. Snow had melted away from the cement ridge around our stone terrace to the right of the house entrance.  

I threw the bag down on the cement.
         “Again.”
I threw it again and sensing I needed to, a third time. When I opened the bag, there were several large pieces remaining among smaller pieces and fragments with powder. I took more photos and lay the pieces out on my workspace. Then I knew. 

I wont be able to put this back together again.

That can’t be true. I must be wimpy. I pieced what I could of the butterfly together, but the pieces had thick layers. Only two of them fit evenly.
         “You can’t.”
I can’t. I can’t put this back together. This wasn’t the way the exercise was supposed to go. I would glue the pieces together, healing would flow and I would have this great story to write about on my blog. I would be mended or at the very least, this would be a marker for moving forward.
         
I must have chosen the wrong vessel.
         “No, I chose it.”

I looked back at my verse.

God made my life complete when I placed all the pieces before him.

It didn’t say anything about me putting them back together.
Gathering the small pieces and fragments, I placed them in a mason jar and left the large pieces on the table.
Here are the pieces Lord - all the broken pieces, my health issues, my husband’s new health problem, our business, our family, and our future. I give them to you.
         
There was no rush of peace, nothing, just silence. 
Two days later the pieces are right where I left them. 
to be continued ...



6 comments:

Cheryl Ruffing said...

Wow! What a powerful story. I just love this.

Nancy said...

This is so heartfelt...I love the way you put your heart out there and trust that God is going to do His job....

Sometimes, healing doesn't follow the rules that works for others. Maybe He wants to show you another way you will receive your healing and the pieces put back together again.

Expect the miraculous; He likes to show His power.....

GraceGal said...

Thank you ladies for your encouragement.

Denise J. Hughes said...

"Here are the pieces Lord - all the broken pieces, my health issues, my husband’s new health problem, our business, our family, and our future. I give them to you."

This is beautiful. Our stories are really "unended" rather than "unmended." We're all in progress as we seek to become more like Him. We all have a "To Be Continued..." at the end of every day.

Thank you for sharing here. You've inspired me.

Cheryl Ruffing said...

Paula, a hymn written by Genevieve Glen, OSB, that I read today reminded me of this post. It goes:

Broken cisterns walled in stone
Hold but dust and whitened bone.
Mend, O mend our hearts, we cry,
Lest in parching thirst we die.

Roll the heavy stone away;
Shape new hearts of earthen clay;
Breathe on us your living breath;
Warm in us the chill of death.

Loose the waters of your word;
Let their leaping joy be heard;
Fill with love forever fresh
Hearts once stone but now made flesh.

dwellonthese said...

So tempting to get busy with the glue gun when sometimes God wants us to sit with our brokenness for a while. "Here are the pieces Lord - all the broken pieces, my health issues, my husband’s new health problem, our business, our family, and our future. I give them to you." Beautifully said.