Thursday, January 31, 2013

Beauty in the Brokenness


"When the Japanese mend broken objects, they aggrandize the damage by filling the cracks with gold. They believe that when something has suffered damage and has a history it becomes more beautiful." ~Darla Jackson, Sculpturist

I was an inexpensive vase.  I was common and easily found, one might say, and no one had to look very long or very far or go out of their way at all to find me or one of the thousands that looked just like me.  You couldn't even tell us apart really. I didn't have any real characteristics that made me special.  Some might say I was useful--practical--I performed my job adequately.  I certainly wasn't unique or lovely, and you certainly could never describe me as "art". I was, for all intensive purposes, disposable...easily replaced..."cheap".  Then one day the most fortunate series of events happened,  It started the day I was completely destroyed.  Broken beyond recognition.  Instead of being taken to the curb to be thrown out with the rest of the trash someone gathered the pieces of my former self and decided I was worth repairing...saving.  Not only would I be mended using a common bonding substance, but the cracks of my body, mind, and soul would be filled with one of the most valuable substances known to man-GOLD!!.  The liquified gold was carefully, almost lovingly, poured into what pieces were left of me.  The gold traced each blemish, each break, each imperfection...each crack caused by the trauma of being destroyed.  It was those very points of impact that now shimmered brightly in the light and demanded every eye's attention.  Beauty took the place of the unsightly scars.  I actually treasure each of those scars now because I became so much more valuable because of the very damage that destroyed my former self. There is always so much more beauty that can be found after brokenness if you are wise enough to look for it and have a soul pure enough to treasure it.  Strive to see with your soul.  You're eyes will deceive you every time.

Be Blessed. 


Thursday, January 24, 2013

I wish this would've been written for me (aka Fairy Tale, Lost)

A Conversation with Myself:

Broken hearts, when destroyed for no reason, have a way of twisting you on the inside. You lose a part of yourself. A piece of you dies and sometimes that piece festers and infects the whole of who you are. It can devastate your life, cause you to question reality...and especially yourself, (can I trust anyone?). You begin to question your own sanityIt haunts your existence and consumes your time and paralyzes you and renders you unable of giving the amazing amount of love that you thought you had to give to others who are so much more deserving.  But you find no love left--not even for yourself.  Not even for God.

"But it doesn't have to be this way...only if you let it" they say. "You're the better person, and there's a big world to make up for that small piece you lost" they say.

I guess that's true.  I guess it sounds like those are the right things to say..  But...God help me...I know I still wish this had been written for me. 

However, I know the truth...now.  I know it wasn't.  None of them were ever written for me.  I hate the consuming pain and grief with it's pounding heart and light headedness and gut twisting sensations that make it difficult to breath, or move.  Wondering that if you dare to stand will your knees really support the weight of your thinning frame?  I hate that I was such a fool and allowed someone to treat my body, my spirit, and my heart so carelessly.  But this is my penance.  After all, I invited him in to the depths of me.  I opened every door.  I trusted.

I hate that I trusted someone who used me and was capable of throwing me away and treating me as if I never, ever was Anything.
At.
All.
Ever.

It's the feeling of insignificance that causes ones spirit to wither and die a little more each day.


When I catch you when you’re falling
Will you tell me how you fell?
When I hold you when you’re crying
Will you let me share your tears?
When I help you find the answers
Will you tell me of your questions?
When I love the beauty in your years
Will you let me see you smile?
When I make myself a poem
Can I sing for you my song?
When I help you unfold your wings
Can I teach you how to fly? -------------
When you tell me how you fell
You help me find my balance
When you let me share your tears
I no longer need to cry
When you let me see you smile
I know the beauty in our years
When you tell me of your questions
You help me find the answers
When I sing for you my song
You make my life a poem
When you learn to use your wings
You teach me how to fly -------------



Wednesday, January 9, 2013

Little Girl Lost

The following poem was written by my young friend Katie.  Katie has been, and continues to be, sexually, physically, and emotionally abused by people in her life who are suppose to protect her.  Will you please join me in praying for Katie and the thousands just like her who are wondering how they are going to make it though this day.

I love you Katie Girl and God loves you more.
xoxox


Cant be more broken whats left to destroy
because eveytime i end up someones toy

As much as i try to help others be set free
my regrets, abuse, and family all still torture me

I'm lost in this world and nowhere to be found
but at least i have jesus when im feeling down

I have learned to fight off the pain i have lived
and because of god and people that love me i can forgive

I realize now what i am worth
and all the things i can do to help fix this earth

I'm only 15 but im as strong as i can be
im no longer the victim i am set free

Thank you to those who help me get though
please know i love and care for you