I was standing on a step stool, searching for the honey in an upper corner cabinet. My elbow accidentally nudged a can of tomatoes that obeyed the law of gravity and dropped like, well, like a can of tomatoes. It landed smack in the middle of an etched glass platter I had displayed on the counter-top microwave. Of course it shattered.
While it was not a family heirloom or a valuable piece, I cherished that item for its simplistic beauty. The scene, that you had to look closely to discern, was of a church nestled among rolling hills.
Three emotions rolled over me, one after the other: disbelief I’d been so careless, upset over breaking something I cared for, and then calm. It was, after all, just a thing.
We are fragile beings on this earth. Many life events threaten to break us. Common ones include divorce, unemployment, serious or chronic illness, the death of a loved one.
I recall a long-ago high school health class. The teacher solemnly told us that the line between being well-adjusted and mentally ill wasn’t as precise as it might appear. “Sometimes,” he said, “a single event can break a person.” In looking back with far more empathy than I possessed at sixteen, I believe he was speaking from personal experience.
“Breaking news!” the television personalities announce. They proceed to inform us of a horrific car crash, train derailment, earthquake, tornado, murder or SOMETHING that will forever alter the person/persons/family/community involved. Breaking news, indeed.
We tend to forget that no one has a perfect life. No one is immune to tragedy or loss. Yet, while we’re in the midst of one of these “life events,” we want to scream out that it’s not fair. Why did this happen to me, to us? When we are in such anguish, we can’t see the reality that we’re on the same ride as everyone else.
That’s why it’s important that we truly be there for each other. When I experienced a breaking hurt with emotions so complex that I could barely function, I came through it only because of my four Fs: faith, family, friends, forgiveness.
Without our knowing, we each may be that lifeline that someone is reaching for. We each may be the heartfelt hug, the listening soul, the gentle word that someone needs to progress on her path of recovery.
Psychiatrist and best-selling author M. Scott Peck shared a wonderful illustration of brokenness. He felt there was great symbolism in the moment in church when the priest holds up the communion wafer and breaks it in half. Dr. Peck said that represented to him not only a reminder of Jesus being broken for us, but also our willingness to be broken for Him.
Because, you see, so often when we’re serving as a smidgen of glue to help another person piece himself back together, a little of us breaks as well. It is in this shared brokenness that we both mend.
To my readers: Will you share a story of shared brokenness and how you were encouraged by it?
It is easy to share in the “joys” of life – our family recently shared in the joyous occasion of our granddaughter, Christine’s, wedding. However, this past Sunday, our pastor announced that a life-long member of the Church had been diagnosed with terminal cancer and would soon be in hospice care. Earlier in the week, she couldn’t remember how to use the washing machine and then later in the day she didn’t know who her husband was. At the hospital, she was quickly diagnosed with a fast growing brain tumor. Her husband and granddaughter brought her to Church on Sunday. My husband was the “Greeter” for Church, and it was evident that she didn’t know who he was – no smile or hug this Sunday from this beautiful lady. Our pastor reminded us all of the home we have in Heaven when we leave our earthly home. So, even though it was a sad and solemn day for all of us, we were filled with the hope of meeting again in our Heavenly home. I bought a card to send to my dear friend that reads: “Sometimes we don’t know what to say. Hope that’s okay. We can pray – and care – and love. Especially Love!”
A beautiful story…thanks so much for sharing.