Sometimes broken things just can’t be fixed.
A broken heart, a broken promise, a broken person...a shattered
vase.
Sometimes broken things heal crooked, and the pieces don’t quite fit
anymore.
But sometimes they can.
It takes broken soil to produce a crop.
Broken clouds to bring rain.
And broken grain to give bread.
Broken clouds to bring rain.
And broken grain to give bread.
Sometimes things need to be broken, to become stronger.
We’ve found ourselves faced with a tough week, yet again.
Some days are good, but then there are others, where it would just be nice to
curl up, and not even get out of bed, to face what lies ahead.
Sometimes things
just feel broken.
It has been recommended that we apply for adoption grants.
The process is lengthy, a lot of paperwork, providing copies of our home study, previous income tax returns, and questions. Lots of questions. Many of the places that offer grants, they
have stipulations, and limits on age requirements, or income requirements, and
so there are many adoption grants that we do not even qualify for. But, we’ve
found a few that we do, and we’ve applied.
And we've waited.
Just this past week, we got a response from one of them, and after review, and considering all the families and their need, that at this time they are sorry they cannot offer a grant to our family.
After receiving notification that we were not selected to receive a
grant, we did get in the mail from them, a card encouraging us to keep
pressing forward.
Inside that card was a tiny plastic package with a necklace in it.
I am familiar with the place the necklace came from; I ordered one for myself awhile
back, to help support other families in the process of adopting. However, the
envelope was mangled, and appeared the seal had been broken.
Inside that plastic package was a broken necklace, without the charm that I know should have been there. Our piece of mail was tattered, and obviously had a rough ride making its way through the postal service to get to our home.
Inside that plastic package was a broken necklace, without the charm that I know should have been there. Our piece of mail was tattered, and obviously had a rough ride making its way through the postal service to get to our home.
It hurt. I felt yet again, broken. There they were, trying to sow seeds of hope into our lives, and encourage us, and we were left
with just a broken necklace.
But this week, every day, as I've walked past that necklace laying on the counter, I've felt that the Lord has been trying to tell me something about that broken necklace.
Broken things can become blessed things if we let God do the
mending. And if we choose, we can see beauty in the brokenness.
Matthew West has a new song out called “Broken Things,” in
the second verse of the song it says:
The pages of history they tell me it’s true
That it’s never the perfect; it’s always the ones with the
scars that you use
It’s the rebels and the prodigals; it’s the humble and the
weak
All the misfit heroes You chose
Tell me there’s hope for someone like me.
You can't use an egg, unless it's broken. Lord, use my brokenness.
-Amber
Hugs to you guys
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