Creator

He asked me if I would serve. It was an honor to be asked.

I told him no. Thanks, but no. I also thanked him for the honor. Not that I deserve it.

I didn’t tell him the whole reason I said no. Well, how could I? Imagine! Going back to the committee and telling them the guy they named to the position didn’t have all his pieces in the right places!

It’s true though. I’ve been broken. (I think we all have been at some time or another.) And, I don’t think all the pieces are back in place yet.

I've been broken. And, I don't think all the pieces are back in place yet. Share on X

The Lovely Lady explained it differently. A one-word description. I’m not sure I like her word. Yet. Time will tell.

She says the word is fragile.

On second thought, I think perhaps the word is perfect. It describes all of us in a way, doesn’t it?

Hang on there. Don’t go off in a huff. Let me see if I can do a little better at explaining.

I was in a hurry the day before yesterday and missed a step as I headed into my house. Falling headlong to the landing atop the short flight of steps, I noted only that I might have bruised my hand as I put it down to break the fall.

I was all in one piece! There was no damage at all.

Fragile? Hah!

Except I am. And, I’m not all in one piece.

I awoke the next morning with a knee that hurt. It seems I may have twisted it when I fell.

Well, maybe just a little fragile.

And then I got up this morning with a good bit of pain in my lower back. It’s hard to stand up straight—hard even to walk across the yard. And, bending over to pet the dogs or pick something up from the floor? Forget about it!

Fragile. She’s right.

Just so you know, I’m not going to quit moving altogether. That would be foolishness. I’m up and walking, even though it hurts to do it. If we stop using our body, we eventually lose the use of it completely.

We—judiciously—work through the pain, walking, bending, stretching, until the damaged parts heal. At times, we wonder if the tightrope act—not too much, not too little—is worth the time and discipline.

Some time ago, I asked a good friend of mine if his leg was hurting him again. When he wondered why I asked, I mentioned the limp. Laughing, he talked about a serious accident he had several years ago, and the pain that had ensued.

“But, it doesn’t hurt at all anymore. I just got used to limping to avoid the pain.”

I wonder how many of us are walking with limps we don’t need, avoiding pain that is merely a memory.

We are fragile. We’re not necessarily frail.

There is a difference. Fragility shows itself in use. Broken pieces are indicative of purpose thwarted, but they are caused by action.

Frailty comes from disuse. It is a sign of weakness brought on by inactivity or long illness.

That’s odd. Come to think of it, we may be both fragile and frail, both breakable and weak.

But He understands. His Son lived among us and sympathizes with our frailty. (Hebrews 4:15)

He made us. He knows how fragile, how breakable, we are. (Psalm 103:14)

I still don’t understand how we’re of any use for His purposes. But, we are.

He puts His treasure, the grace and mercy He gives freely, in vessels made of clay. (2 Corinthians 4:7)

Fragile.

Frail.

I wonder if we need to be broken every once in a while because we’ve filled the jar up with ourselves, instead of letting Him fill it.

It’s one of the things I remembering hearing the red-headed lady who raised me say: “Oh, she’s so full of herself. . .”

I get full of myself sometimes. I do. It’s not much like treasure. Not much at all.

God wants us to be His treasure houses, pouring out His goodness for all to experience and give Him glory.

He’s the one who’s putting me back together. The day will come when all the pieces will be in the right place.

Today, I’m walking. Slowly.

But, I’m going to run again.

Soon.

Broken! Busted! Everybody has something to repair. Before buying new, let Mighty Putty fix it for you!
(Billy Mays ~ American television salesperson ~ 1958-2009)

Each time he said, “My grace is all you need. My power works best in weakness.” So now I am glad to boast about my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ can work through me. That’s why I take pleasure in my weaknesses, and in the insults, hardships, persecutions, and troubles that I suffer for Christ. For when I am weak, then I am strong.
(2 Corinthians 12:9,10 ~ NLT ~ Holy Bible, New Living Translation, copyright © 1996, 2004, 2015 by Tyndale House Foundation. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers, Inc., Carol Stream, Illinois 60188. All rights reserved.)

The world is broken. lens-755539_1280

Broken.

A friend mentioned that his close friend died yesterday. There was a torrent of sympathetic responses, mine among them. Then, as the torrent subsided, he added one fact: She had been killed by her husband—shot three times.

Broken.

In Arizona this week, a mother drowned her two-year-old twin sons and tried to drown another boy, because she thinks no one loves them—or her. This happened the same week a court case began in California to try a mother who also drowned her son. That woman says she acted out of love—to protect the boy from a horrible life.

Broken.

The list could go on for page after page—people of one religion killing people of other religions, folks of one race killing and torturing folks of another race, ethnic groups with power abusing others without power—There seems no end of examples.

Closer to home, we live in a society of brokenness. Broken families, broken friendships, broken children, broken health, broken promises, broken computer programs—even broken pencils.

All broken.

To the minutest detail, all of creation is susceptible to the brokenness inherent in every part. The Preacher, in the Old Testament, added his endorsement when he told us that all is useless.

Broken and useless.

I will admit it. I am overwhelmed by the broken world in which we live. I suspect, when you take time to consider it, you are as overwhelmed as I.

And then I realize we too are broken. Overwhelmed and battered, as is all the world, our brokenness cries out for someone who can set things right.

And it turns out there is Someone who has already done the deed. We simply have to put ourselves in His hands. They are, after all, the hands of a Creator—a Potter who knows His craft, and His material. (Jeremiah 18:3,4)

He knows that we are dust. He knows that we shatter too easily. And, He already knows what the vessel we will one day become is to look like.

He already knows what the vessel we will one day become is to look like. Share on X

From the broken shards, a thing of beauty. Or perhaps simply, a thing of usefulness. I think that might be better.

Broken, made useful. Efficient. Filled with purpose.

In a broken world, we can serve His purpose.

May we be no longer broken. That was the way we came to Him. Not the condition in which we are to leave His wheel and kiln.

Useful.

In a still-broken world.

All of God’s people are ordinary people who have been made extraordinary by the purpose He has given them.
(Oswald Chambers ~ Scottish evangelist/teacher ~ 1874-1917)

The Lord is close to the brokenhearted, and saves those who are crushed in spirit.
(Psalm 34:18 ~ NIV)

He's Taken Leave

Random wanderings with Paul Phillips

Fragile

Not Broken