Hey Sis…My earliest memory of my father was when I was 3 years old. I was twirling in my church dress, my mother stopping me to tie the pretty sash into a bow, when he declared he was leaving. That rocked my world. All 3 years of them. I felt something inside, something indicating wrong or bad, that I could not identify. It would take him 9 more years before he made good on his threat. Then, watching him leave, I could better identify what I was feeling. Pain, fear, hurt, abandonment. “Why was I not good enough for him to stay…to keep in contact with me?” would be a question that plagued me for years.
My marriage would take a similar route, with similar questions…
Those two experiences would send me on discovery of God’s love for me. It hasn’t been fairy tail-ish. It hasn’t been gold and glitter and giggles. But it has been real and it has been worth it. If I had never watched my father pack up a car and never look back, if I had never experienced the pain of adultery, then I never would have questioned my worth…and found my worth in God. And I never would have experienced God ‘s love with such intensity, intimacy. If they had not snatched my right to depend on them, I would have never learned to depend on God. If they never left, I wouldn’t have realized that God was there all the time, and He is truly all I need. They left voids that I’ve found only God can fill. And that was only the beginning of the purpose of my pain.
So often, as women, we pour into everyone around us. We can’t help it. We are nurturers by nature. And we feel a hurt when it is not reciprocated, because we like love. The way life is set up, people will disappoint us. People will leave. The two men that promised to love me, didn’t. Instead they walked away. How could this NOT leave me feeling that I was unlovable? How could this NOT destroy me? How could this NOT make me bitter? The answer is simple: God. Those two monumental events had the ability to destroy me, threatened to take me out…but God!
There is a pottery term, kintsukuroi, which means to repair with gold.
The art of repairing pottery with gold or silver lacquer and understanding that the piece is more beautiful for having been broken.
God is the potter and I am His clay. And what the enemy clearly meant for evil, God said no, instead, I’ll put this woman, my daughter, back together, better than before, more beautiful than before (And that’s hard to do because my momma put me here pretty! :-)). Because He loves me. Not the earthly love that life as taught us to expect disappointment from. But God’s love, which is always secure, steady, trustworthy.
It’s ok if you feel broken, tattered, falling apart. It’s ok to weep. It’s ok to mourn. It’s ok. I remember feeling like a little girl, in the early stages of my divorce, slowly handing God the pieces of my heart that I felt would never be whole again. Never work properly again. I would find new areas that needed to be worked on, needed to be remedied, and go running back to God with it, meek and tender, and slowly hand it over to God my father, with tears, with fear, with trepidation. But the more I realized His love for me….I’m still standing, better than before, my smile is genuine, my faith is solid, I can rest in Him…the more confident I became.
If God be for me, who can be against me? No one, Why? Because I am loved by an amazing, almighty God. If you are broken, take those pieces to God and he will put you back together again, better than before. Why? Because Hey sis…you ARE loved!