Mosaics of Life

My entire life has been broken, maybe not from the start, shortly after my teen years. My passion is reaching out to the broken ones and tucking them in close; one broken soul carrying another broken soul, and we manage to make it through.

We don’t set out each day in wonder and think, “Oh, how might I break today, how much more can my life be fallen” but maybe we should. I cannot express the  disdain I had of being broken. The feeling of pulling back the cover on my heart, the thick blanket meandering around my shoulders while I am whispering to You.

We’ve been made to think that broken is a bad thing, something to be ashamed of, to coil into like a slithering snake and huddle in the darkness. Being broken makes mosaics, those little intricate lines and cracks that make up the letters into words of our own deep stories, being broken hurts. This is not something anyone wants but the Father wants it for us so we can draw closer to Him.

This is what relationship is all about, taking the bits and pieces and showing the bright Light that comes beaming from between each little crack. It’s what the He does best, breathing soft Life into each part, into my heart and watching the mending, even though there are scars left behind. Maybe those times can be remembered as a comfortable blur in a mosaic of my life.

It’s that stepping off the cliff and standing on air, hovering gently waiting on Him with every breath and faith that He will always be there.  His arms around me and showing me the life I live from high above, higher above than I’ve ever known to be.

Many people tell me, “all you need is Him, but then, you need this…and this…and this thing too…” and the milestone of brokenness hangs heavy and all I can do is collapse. There’s no running away from the shadows, because He’s in the shadows, He’s carrying me and I feel his grace run through me.

He’s in the Light. He’s in the dark. He IS. the marks are like ink on the page. they speak of a greater story, a deeper grace. They show that you are strong, wandering through fire but held tender and close.

~Nancy~

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