shattered glass, a question, and the beauty of this life.

It's amazing how quickly time slips by without the words flowing out of me. When I first started blogging a few years ago, not a week went by without some post or thought somehow working its way into the words written and sent out into the vast orbit of the blogging world. I thrived on every moment spent crafting the words that were translated from my heart to the page before me, where the cursor blinking was like a paintbrush in the hands of a very willing painter.

Then, everything changed.

And where once there were words, all that was left were the broken shards of shattered glass where once something beautiful had been.

There are times when I can write more often. There are times when I think that everything is finished, that I'm done trying to pick up the pieces of what I used to have...of a time I thought I always wanted to keep and then realizing after much struggle, that I would never want it back...but, then there are times when I'm back in that place, looking around at the glittering pieces of glass laying all around me. There are times when the words get stuck, located somewhere between my throat and abdomen, not budging and giving me that odd feeling similar to right before you start to cry and your chest tightens up. Those times come, and lately, seem to catch me off guard and unprepared...and all I want to do is push this blinking cursor as far away from me as possible, because honestly, who wants to hurt and hurt, and keep doing things that hurt?

Those times, the ones that halt the writing, they make me hate with a passion the fact that I have this driving need to write, to communicate what I can't say out loud, those moments have been more frequent lately. Because, apparently the wound has not quite finished healing. And while the forgiveness has been given whole heartedly, it seems the struggle now lies deep inside me alone, touching those hidden insecurities that get pushed down beyond the place that never shows.

I had a friend ask me a couple weeks ago what my biggest insecurity is. The moment the question was out there hanging in space and caught between us, it almost knocked the air totally out of every cell inside my body. Seriously. It caught me so out of the blue that I could literally feel my soul start to shield all those deep places inside where the cracks lie hidden. I tried to change the subject and thought I'd dodged it for a while, but then he asked again...and there was nothing hidden or searching or pulling in his voice, it was simply a question and it was not being used as a weapon to force me open and lay me bare. And for the first time in a long time, having someone ask me something about who I am inside was suddenly not a threat...which kinda sent my head spinning even more. Of course, I fumbled and danced around all I really wanted to say, giving the very tip answer of a very deep iceberg, but the answer was taken simply for what it was...just taken and not made more or less of. Which is a really big deal for me. The whole moment and question and all of it, was a huge thing...and something in me shifted. I could see in that moment that one day, all the insecurities that were wrought with the shattering of glass will no longer be present. I could see by the way he simply handled what I said, that one day, the rushing fear of actually talking about an insecurity won't be the knee jerk reaction that engulfs me.

And all of this is a beautiful reassurance that slowly, day by day, minute by minute, the pieces that were broken are steadily being fit back together again. With each moment that knocks the breath out of me in a good way, with every post I write that hurts but heals at the same time, all of this is being used to paint the picture my Abba is so carefully painting. For through it all He is still faithful and I can honestly say that I would rather have broken pieces of my life being fit back together again and through this, see His hand at work, than to be whole and perfect and not know the great need I have for this irresistible Savior who has breathed life and light and love into this one wild and sweet life He has given me.

Night has crept in while the words have escaped. The air is cool and cooler still, whispering of crisp days to come, full of golden aspen leaves, scarves, and pumpkin lattes, apple pies, and clear starlit nights. The river's song floats gently through open windows, singing unto the One who set its waters into motion. A mug of dark, steaming black tea sits next to me, soothing the aches that can only be helped by such liquid. The day slips away and the stillness of evening settles in, ever deepening into the coming night.

Here, in this moment, the beauty of this life He has given washes over me. The simplicity of all the beautiful and small ways He makes Himself known are overwhelming.

Though life hurts, though it gets broken and shattered, still, beyond all the pain is a beauty that far outweighs it . Every moment can be used to break us or build us...the choice is ours. But, He is always right there, waiting and eager, longing to hold us close and bind up the broken hearts that beat out the rhythm of the days we have been given. What beauty there is in this one life, in all the moments that pass us by unseen, too small to even catch our attention. If we will slow down and stop, take our eyes away from all that is inward, if we will gaze out and into His eyes, the smallest of moments will become those that impact us the most. No matter what it is. A beautiful sunset, your child's sweet laugh, a question asked or an answer given, it is the smallest of moments that, in the end, will affect us the most.  Those moments we play a part in that change a person's life around us, though we may not even know it. So, may we be brave enough to live lives given unto the One who would give us His very best if we will leave the choice to Him. And may we have the courage to be broken and transparent to those around us, finding that through our every weakness, His glory shines brighter still.