Do not Grieve for All that’s Broken

Reblogged from

http://dreamingbeneaththespires.blogspot.com/

Anita Mathias wrote...

Bread must be broken to be eaten.

The grain of wheat split to live

The chrysalis crumble for the butterfly,

The egg splinter for the chicken

The snake moult to grow.

And sheets of coloured glass

Must be shattered

To be refashioned

Into stained glass

Through which--

In shafts of radiance

Like the love of God--

Rainbowed light

Can shine,

* * *

And I consider.

Did growth spring green

From my own brokenness?

Yes, it always does.

My rejected manuscript

Got me to hone my craft,

Again, more diligently.

Read more.

Write differently

—more simply.

The friendships which shattered

With shards of my heart--

Well, I sure won’t make those mistakes again

But treat precious friendships as what they are

Precious.

Burnt by fires I rashly lit,

Well, I guess I learned their dangers.

Turn down the heat before it rises,

I now say. Be governed by your head

And spirit--not by emotions.

* * *

There is much I have broken

and what stained glass,

what mosaic,

can I build with the shards?

I have extracted just this from the fires:

And it is worth the pain

For the peace it gives,

Its absolute wisdom.

I cannot do life by myself.

For if I do, I will drop and break

My beloved antique vases.

The best way I can handle

My dreams of writing

Is to hand them over to you

To blow through the molten glass

Of broken dreams:

Delicate faery things

Finances: oh, I cannot handle them,

I always feel I spend too much!!

But you are the brilliant,

the ultimate financial genius,

5 loaves to feed 5000. Wow!

I hand them over to you.

And my health,

My poor neglected body

I have undervalued all my life--

What can I do but turn over

The management of this body

You’ve made to you,

Asking for wisdom and grace

To not muck it up.

My children,

Well, your children really,

You made them,

Though I saw them emerge.

You manage them!!

I give you the rest of my life

More freely, more whole-heartedly

Than if I had not messed it up so much

You manage it my life, Lord

It’s now your worry. *

* “ A man once worried so much that he decided to hire someone to do his worrying for him. He found a man who agreed to be his hired worrier for a salary of $200,000 per year. After the man accepted the job, his first question to his boss was, "Where are you going to get $200,000 per year?" To which the man responded, "That's your worry.”

· Max Lucado, Traveling Light.

Reblogged from

http://dreamingbeneaththespires.blogspot.com/