Grieve No More For All That’s Broken

Wheat must be crushed to become bread

And bread broken to be eaten.

 

The chrysalis crumble for the butterfly,

The egg splinter for the chicken.

 

And sheets of coloured glass

Must be shattered

To become stained glass

Through which the love of God–

In rainbowed light–

Shines.

* * *

And I consider…

 

Did growth spring green

From my own brokenness?

 

It always does!

 

My rejected manuscript

Got me to hone my craft,

Again, more diligently.

Read more.

Write differently,

— simply.

 

The friendships which shattered

With shards of my heart–

Well, I sure won’t make those mistakes again,

But treat precious friendships as what they are–

Precious.

 

Burnt by fires I lit,

In the emotion of the moment,

I am learning to take

Emotion to Christ, and be

Governed by Christ, and by head

And spirit—not wild emotions.

 

* * *

There is much I have broken.

What stained glass,

what mosaic,

can I build from the shards?

 

I have extracted this from the fires:

And it is worth the pain

For the peace it gives,

 

I cannot do life by myself.

 

For if I do, I will drop and break

My beloved antique vases.

 

The best I can do

With my writing

Is hand it over to You

To blow through the molten glass

Of broken dreams:

Delicate faery things

 

I give you the rest of my life

More  whole-heartedly

Than if I had not mucked it up.

 

You manage my life, Lord.

It’s now your worry. *

 

* “ A man once worried so much that he decided to hire someone to do his worrying for him. He found a man who agreed to be his hired worrier for a salary of $200,000 per year. After the man accepted the job, his first question to his boss was, “Where are you going to get $200,000 per year?” To which the man responded, “That’s your worry.”