Broken Plates

Keep it together.

Just keep it together ‘til you get home.

I let my forehead press against the window next to me and stared straight ahead.

The glass was cold and the sensation made me feel better.

A little bit.

I was on the train heading home after a good but long work day.

But I could feel my glue peeling off.

A mist began to pour in my eyes and I blinked hard to rinse it away.

But that wasn’t enough.

I pressed my eyes closed and began to pray…

…and was reminded of the broken plate.

Years ago at a bible study, the teacher said something that I had never heard before.

“We are all just like broken plates before God.”

Not chipped.

Not cracked.

Not “gently worn”.

But broken.

Shattered.  Crushed.

In His divine vision, God sees the gaps between our slivers.

He sees the cracks formed from fitting fragments.

He sees the jigsaw of our broken selves.

We can go through our days feeling intact.

But we don’t really realize how incredibly feeble we are.

And when our feebleness is proven true by difficulty,

when our jimmy rigged plates fall apart

when pieces of you, pieces of me have scattered about,

Only Jesus can put us back together.

Grateful that I can safely fall to pieces before my Father. 

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