WHEN YOU’VE BEEN HURT DEEPLY
The bomb dropped in their backyard. Miraculously, it did not detonate. It shook the entire house with its force, but there was no apparent damage to the naked eye.
I recently read about this event in the book ‘It’s Going To Be Alright’, a short biography of my friend’s sweet mother. I was in awe of the words as they came to life on the page.
It was 1941, WWII England.
Bombs and shelters and daily fears. The reality of which many of us know nothing about.
Days later, as her mother picked up a piece of her beautiful crystal, the entire dish disintegrated in her hand. Unbelievably, each piece looked intact, but the bombs implosion had shattered its core.
One touch and it fell apart.
Her heart was broken as her cherished wedding present had to be disposed of.
I have felt this way in my own life at times.
I will be up on the mountain. Up on the top shelf, just like that crystal. Life will be good. Happy. Beautiful.
One word. One thought.
and I fall apart.
All because of a past hurt that shook me to my core.
A hurt that broke my heart.
A hurt that I thought I was past.
A hurt that I believed I had forgiven.
And yet it revisits me.
It comes as an uninvited guest with no warning.
And I am shattered.
I don’t want to fight these feelings. I’m tired. I’m heart broken. I feel alone. The pain is too deep.
So I stay there a while, just like that shattered crystal all over the floor.
I might look like I have it all together to the naked eye.
But I am broken.
So I convince myself that I cannot be fixed. I can’t be glued together.
I will never be what I once was.
I am no longer of use in serving.
And I give up.
I can quote all the verses on forgiveness and comfort and God’s love.
I’m supposed to have it all together, but inwardly...
I dwell on the “befores”,
when everything was still okay.
Before the hurt. Before the bomb. Before I was shattered.
I stay there and wish for it back.
I allow myself to remain broken.
But I am still treasured in my brokenness. I am still loved, even as shattered pieces laying on the floor. Unable to get up.
My God will sweep me up.
He will deeply love every tiny shattered piece of me.
He will hold me in tenderness.
He remembers who I am.
He knows what I have become,
yet He loves me still.
I cannot put my shattered pieces back together again. Only He can.
He holds all those tiny pieces in a box of His making.
Not the beautiful display piece I want the world to see.
But the beautiful brokenness that He alone holds together.
That He alone sees.
I am put back up on a shelf. Not on display, but tenderly held and protected under the shadow of His wing.
Because I am so cherished that I cannot be thrown away.
I am a beautiful reminder of love.
Just like the cherished crystal.
He holds me there.
He tells me I’m okay. I am loved.
I am not alone
Because I am His.
And just as He forgave~despite all the reasons not to,
and SO loved,
through His strength I can do the same.
I can be beautiful again.
My life can serve a purpose.
But only in His box.
All my brokenness.
All the shattered pieces.
Protected and held by Him.
I may not ever know the reason behind the hurt, and even though I don’t understand the pain~
I know He does~
And He can, and will use it for His good.
And maybe someday, someone will read about it, just like I read about the beautiful, broken crystal.
And in the reading they will be reassured and know~
It’s Going To Be Alright.