What do you do with the brokenness you see inside you? When the façade doesn’t cover well and the cracks show through, reminding everyone around you that you are flawed and imperfect? How do you live through the shattered image, with all the beautiful shards mocking you from the ground while you sit naked and bare?
Recognizing the Flowers and Giving Thanks
We did a birthday party for my son this last weekend. A bunch of his friends came over and did a Nerf gun war in the backyard in childhood bliss. I was talking with my son later that night and he totally shocked me by leaning over for a hug and saying, “Thanks for the fun party, Mom.” More often than not, my kids complain about what they don’t have rather than being thankful for what they do. And (who am I kidding here?) so do I.