Brokenness

You are so lovely. You have so much potential. Please don’t end up crumpled and discarded like so many of your brothers and sisters. That would be a tragedy. Yes, come with me. I will keep us safe.

With your radiant white face you called out to me, asking about my thoughts and dreams. With you my muddled words become a beautiful lullaby in black and white. You help me sing.

Your arms keep me steady and safe; though you also know that sometimes it’s worth the risk, drawing outside the lines. Sometimes lines are meant to be crossed, broken. That’s how new things come to be.

But wait, that hurts. I don’t want to break. No, I’ll stay inside the lines. It’s okay. We can make do. There are only a few notes we have to leave out. Our song can still be beautiful, if limited by bars of safety.

But how can something new come forth, if we forever stay inside the lines? Perhaps the break is needed to write the most beautiful song, to combine all the notes in a chorus of life. Because life isn’t life remaining in the comfort of one line. Boundaries are meant to be crossed. Lines are meant to be broken.

I guess I am meant to be broken too. Brokenness means a release of some part of you, a new shape come to light. Brokenness sings a new song, a song that brings truth with the pain. Yes, now I see I cannot live unbroken. And maybe, neither can you. But I think I see hope. Brokenness is beautiful too.