All Broken Up

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Recently a group of us rented a condo in Florida, and as we were leaving, one year old Micah tripped on a lamp cord and pulled it to the ground, shattering it. Klaus took the evidence to the property manager, who shrugged it off saying, “Don’t worry about it.” He wouldn’t even let us pay for it.

Once back at home, I went to the post office to pick up my vacation mail. Passing the drive-up mailbox I noticed it was broken, too. The once-narrow mail slot had been wrenched open to resemble a camping tent, its metal twisted by someone driving too close. No doubt the car’s side mirror went home broken, too.

Yesterday while cleaning out my china hutch, I broke a small mirror. Today I broke a votive candle. And that’s how life goes. Stuff gets broken.

The lamp, mailbox, mirror and votive can be repaired or replaced without too much trouble, but what about breaks that aren’t so easily fixed?

During the same Florida vacation, my nephew-in-law broke his elbow while playing racket ball, careening full force against an unforgiving wall. Three weeks later he’s still experiencing pain and inconvenience from the break, but eventually it’ll heal.

There are other breaks, though, that never seem to mend, like broken hearts. We’ve all had our share through disappointment, treachery, dashed hope, regret, betrayal, death. I think God sees our grief in these situations and comes in close, reminding us of his presence and love. The hurt may not be completely repaired on this side of eternity, but the Lord partners with us to share the burden.

There is one kind of break, however, that causes God to rejoice. It’s the broken heart we experience when convicted of our own sin. Psalm 51 says, “The sacrifice you desire is a broken spirit. You will not reject a broken and repentant heart, O God.”

A willful break from God leads to a broken spirit, which God is good at fixing. He makes a supernatural repair superior to anything Super Glue can do. And on the other side of that fix is God’s forgiveness and our joy.

I’ve broken quite a few things in my life, but so has God. He’s broken something that turned out to be spectacular for us; he broke the power of sin, which is what Jesus accomplished on the cross. Because of that we are dead to sin and alive to God through Christ Jesus. (Romans 6) His break led to our being repaired.

My parents taught these things to us from childhood, and Mom also made sure she covered several other breaks. One night when I was 17 and in a dating relationship, she said, “How’s your love life?” She knew I wouldn’t share any secrets but wanted to crack open the door, just in case.

“Fine,” I said.

Then she said, “If any guy breaks your heart, I’ll break his neck.”

I know that was just her “cool” way of saying she loved me, but when a boy did eventually break my heart, I sure-as-shootin’ didn’t tell Mom.

“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted; he rescues those whose spirits are crushed.” (Psalm 34:18)

Packing Up Possessions

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There are two seasons of life: collecting and dispersing. When we get married, bridal shower gifts and wedding presents give us a jump on creating a new home. Then as we travel through the years, we move to bigger digs and eventually add children. Along with them comes a new volume of equipment, and all of it needs space. Children grow, we age, and the pile-up of years can pile up enough possessions to threaten our sanity.

Every once in a while it’s good to take inventory, but most of us are too busy until it’s time to down-size. And suddenly we have a problem.

Because it took four years for our family to sell our big, old house, I had plenty of time to condense our stuff. The first year I set a goal to eliminate 1/3rd or every drawer, cabinet and closet as preparation for the move.

The second year I did it again, this time stretching for half of everything. Storage began to loosen up, and it felt better than going on a diet and losing weight.

More reducing was necessary to squeeze two houses into one, and now, two years later, I’m at it again. We’ve still got too much furniture in our small home, so I’ve made plans to ditch the largest piece, a big china hutch.

This cabinet has housed my beloved collection of glass items for 25 years, and in order to send it out the front door, I needed to eliminate more than half of what it held.

And it was much harder than I thought.

I struggled to decide what to let go of and needed some standard by which to measure each piece’s value, not in dollars but in sentiment. I decided to get rid of everything that wasn’t linked to someone special.

The process wasn’t easy, but that was an excellent reason to do it. I love my glass, but it was glass-gluttony for sure. No one person needs all I had. Scripture tells us to hold our possessions lightly and continually acknowledge that all of it is God’s blessing. Our stuff finds ownership in him.

Jesus told the story of a man who did so well at accumulating, he had to build bigger buildings to hold it all. The result was an identity in what he owned and an inflated opinion of his own importance. Because of those two things, Jesus labeled him “a fool.”

The Lord challenges us to find our riches in a bond with him. People say, “You can’t take it with you,” which is true of all earthly assets. But we can take the Lord’s relationship with us when we die.

And that’s the one possession I’ll never eliminate.

“Jesus said, “Beware! Guard against every kind of greed. Life is not measured by how much you own. A person is a fool to store up earthly wealth but not have a rich relationship with God.” (Luke 12:15,21)

Waiting

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Today I spent nearly three hours standing in line at an office that was trying to service too many people. We waited in single file along the wall of a long, narrow corridor, hoping to be heard.

When I arrived, I asked another line-stander how long he’d been there. “Two hours so far,” he said.

The young student in front of me was a guy I’d seen 24 floors down at the lobby security check. I’d been ahead of him in that line, but somehow he’d gotten to the new line ahead of me. I berated myself for wasting 30 seconds finding the right elevator.

So we waited. A man with a cane (complaining loudly) was finally given a chair, but a second complainer was told to sit on the floor.

When a man arrived with a little girl Skylar’s age, I knew they’d never make it. She’d brought a pink back-pack full of activities, and he’d filled his pocket with candy. But after 90 minutes they’d run through their entertainment and gave up, ducking under the ribbon “fence” and heading home.

Although it was frustrating to wait in my poorly chosen shoes, the people-watching was fascinating. Each new arrival began by asking the official at the head of the line, “Where do I go to talk to someone about my problem?”

And to each person he’d say, “Get in line,” while pointing a finger in our direction. Mouths dropped open and objections were made. “I’ve got to get this done on my lunch hour!” (Chuckle, chuckle and another point to the end of the line.)

Or, “This is my day off. If I don’t get it done today, I’ll have to wait a whole week!” (Chuckle, point.)

When the clock inched toward closing time, the representative arrived to knock off most of the waiting line. “We won’t get to any of you people today,” she said, sweeping her hand over most of those waiting. Their groans rose up in unison.

I was third-to-last, grateful I could continue to wait. Sadly, at the end of the meeting, my advisor couldn’t help except to suggest several other offices with new lines to stand in.

Today’s waiting ordeal was a perfect picture of why we have trouble waiting on God. Just as the authorities wouldn’t let us even look into the room where we hoped to go, God doesn’t let us see our future or the details of how our prayers will be answered. And just as we had no idea how long our wait would be, the Lord doesn’t clue us into how long our troubles will last. And just as the office personnel had all the power today and we had none, God is sovereign over the events of our lives. And just as we grew uncomfortable as the hours passed, waiting for the Lord can become downright painful.

When the waiting ordeal was over and I finally got back to my car, I vented to Jack, who had been waiting, too. He wagged his tail as if to say, “Welcome to my world.”

“Wait for the Lord; be strong, and let your heart take courage; wait for the Lord!” (Psalm 27:14)