My sleeping pattern is whack. I don’t know if I can blame my creativity that keeps me up into the wee hours of the morning, or that cup of coffee I usually drink before bed. Sometimes I can’t shut my brain off, recapping the day or imagining my future. Any one of those scenarios causes my sleep to be weird and often in spurts.
This morning I woke up just in time to catch the beginning of the sunrise. The dark of the night was giving way to a corner of the break of day. Crickets clocked out and the birds took their post, cheerfully chirping. I watched as squirrels stretched and playfully chased each other in the huge tree right outside my bedroom window….the early morning breeze made my purple sheer curtains dance and sway. I’ve learned to take in these moments, quiet and serene and relaxing…I’ve learned to pray and to just “be”.
I can remember a time not too long ago when I couldn’t find the awe in seeing another day. A new sunrise felt like another day to operate in brokenness. It felt like a chore. Hearing birds chirp had ceased to make me happy. And a warm breeze did not soothe me. I was so broken, yet I pressed to find Jesus in those moments. I pressed to pray, even if my prayers were a slump of tears. I would look into my mirror, and as I stared at the defeated reflection staring back at me, I declared “Thanks be unto God who always causes me to triumph!”. As I dressed for the day, in clothes that had gotten too big, swallowing me up, because I couldn’t eat, I would declare “By Your stripes I am healed! My mind is healed, my soul is healed, my body is healed, my appetite is healed!”.
I smiled this morning as I thought about the woman I was. I wish I could tell her “good job! You didn’t give up! You didn’t let all that junk, all that pain make you bitter. You didn’t let it harden you, no matter how tempting. You trusted Jesus. It was worth it, right?”.
I remember journaling and blogging about how my heart was shred to pieces. Shard so precisely into slivers…there were some pieces I couldn’t find. And I tried hard to find ALL the pieces, because I needed to give them back to God. Just like a small child, trying to convince someone to play with a toy, for example….they try to coax them, they try and shove the toy in their hand, they may cry if the person isn’t moving fast enough. That’s how I was, with the broken pieces of my heart. Sometimes I threw them at God, angry that He allowed my wusband to break our covenant, in the most devastating of ways. Angry that I was left with all the questions…and hurt. Angry that I was angry. Sometimes I casually gave Him a piece or two, flirting with numbness, because that was easier than facing the pain, or waiting on God. Sometimes I was teary and humbled…”God please take this…and fix it…please” I would plead. And yet there were parts of my heart that I couldn’t find. “How’re you gonna fix me…fix this…when all of me ain’t even here?!”
I know I’ve told you all this before, but the Japanese have a process, when restoring broken items. It’s called kintsukuroi or kintsugi. They weave material, better or more expensive than the original material, usually gold and silver, into the cracks of the broken item. It’s then considered better or more valuable then the original.
When we become broken and humbled enough, we give it all to God and trust Him to do what He is going to do, which is something like that Japanese process. Some pieces of us don’t need to be restored. Trust that God will replace it with something better. And when He is done with the process, or as my sis calls it, the growth, weaving in His spirit and His love and His grace, and Him…you will be better than before…restored to where you should be, not where you were. I am a walking testimony, that being broken before God and restored by God, has made me better and more valuable then the original Vee!
There were so many times that I thought I’d never be healed. The process was too long, I felt I couldn’t hold on, doubt would try to insinuate itself, and giving up tried to seduce me. But this morning, as I took in the sights an sounds, and spent time praying and praising, it was another awesome confirmation that God does heal in His time. I am so thankful that I didn’t give up. He does restore in His time. And you will come out better than ever. Kinda like, pure gold…