This has been a crazy week, so much happening at the office, meetings to attend, trying to do this, trying to do that, there doesn't seem to be enough hours in the day at times. But yet we manage to get it all done, and at the end of the day go to bed, hopefully, with a sense of accomplishment.
I started to think about how fragmented our days can be at times. We are preparing for one thing, while we start planning for another. Yesterday I marveled over the body's ability to cope, today it's the brain. How do we manage to store so much in there. How do the file cabinets of our brains know when we need what's stored inside. But alas, I am no neurologist, so the brain is off limits, I'll just keep on being awed by it's potential.
Back to fragments. When someone we love dies, we feel fractured, broken, as if a piece of us has been lost. It is like trying to finish a jigsaw puzzle, but the last piece seems to have disappeared. Now we have an image, but a critical part of it is gone. An author who I have had the pleasure of speaking to, sent me her book, 'My Beautiful Broken Shell.' In it Carol Hamblet Adams speaks of how she compared herself to the broken shell she encounters on the beach. How like the shell we at times have been tossed up against life, and even though we may no longer be whole, we are stronger for it.
One of the passages from the book that struck me is 'Broken shells are shells that have been tested...and tried...and hurt...yet they don't quit. They continue to be.' Isn't that who we are. All of us who have suffered life's trials, who know tragedy and sadness, who have experienced loss, who know the uncertainty of tomorrow. Those who have dealt with or are dealing with illnesses, who have or are suffering from depression, and even those who are caring for a loved one, and feel pulled in so many directions. We all know what it feels like to be 'broken,' to feel as if we are unworthy, or worse yet to feel as if we no longer belong.
How so far from the truth. I truly believe this brokenness is what builds our character, it is what shapes us. I think of the blacksmith and how with heating and pounding, he produces a beautiful sword. We like that sword are shaped from the metal into a beautiful piece of artwork forged by the Master's hand. We go through the heat, we take the pounding, but in the end we become more precious, more beautiful and we become priceless. We may have some imperfections, but that too is who we are, that is our character, but we are still a work of art.
I like my brokenness, that fact that I am imperfect, it just reminds me that I am still being shaped, still being carefully crafted. I would love to avoid all of life's hurts, but I know that it is of course impossible.
Through my blogging, posts and the connections I have made, I am learning how so many of you have learned to accept your own brokenness. I gain so much strength and comfort from the words I read, from the beautiful images that I am left with. I am amazed at the raw courage that I encounter every day in your words. So many of you, like me, are 'broken shells,' who have wiped off the sands of life and continue on your way. I thank you all for your brokenness, and your willingness to share it with me and so many others.
But the most fascinating aspect to me, is that it feels so much better when I share. It also feels so comforting when I read your postings and musings. I am reminded that I am definitely not alone, a sentiment that I keep hopefully reminding you of, and that so many are walking the same journey as I am. Others may be on a different journey, one I do not understand, but yet, I feel encouraged by the fortitude that is demonstrated. It lets me know that with faith, love and hope so much can be overcome. I thank you for that.
So embrace your 'broken shell' and live your life. Fill it with love, laughter and joy, and just relish every moment it has to offer.
Blessings! and until we meet again.