I have so much to say, yet nothing comes as easily as I would like. I have to look around at the broken parts I've been left with. Some I have to own for my own, some where delivered without invitation.
I guess it could have been worse though for the first few months I didn't know I could survive such loss.
Especially when the day is blanketed by night, and all the sounds that distract my thoughts have departed for the night. There however, is when I have found God is still close and the screaming in my spirit quiets, and receives Him.
It is true, weeping lasts through the night, but Joy does come in the morning. For me it's usually after my second cup of coffee and a cigarette. My day begins and I cannot afford the luxury of being lost in my thoughts, I have to forge my way to earn my living. Pushing aside the fact that I have to come home to the shell of what once was.
So, the broken parts some remain. Some I am slowly scooping them up to put them in their rightful place. I watch them as they go with the waters pull praying all the while all angst will go with them.
Some of the broken parts must stay. They have a usefulness. Reminders not to go back to the very things that caused the brokenness. Reminders, not to be part of that which causes the broken parts. Reminders to never let another blame their own broken parts on me. There's a line between owning your own and owning someone else's.
For now it's the learning, accepting and learning to move beyond. Not just move beyond but apply the broken parts into growing wisdom. There again, is where I know I have to lean into God.
Picking up the broken parts knowing what to keep and what to throw away takes God's leading if I want to have wisdom at all. I trust Him, I need Him to do this in my life.
Now, I just have to open my heart, and open my hands to receive from Him.
