One evening while preparing dinner, my 3-year-old daughter, Lily, twirled around the kitchen, lost in her joyful little dance. Suddenly, she stopped, staring intently at the refrigerator. Her finger pointed to a colorful painting of hers, proudly displayed with a ceramic snowflake magnet she had crafted in school. This magnet was her treasure, a heartfelt gift for her dad.
In an instant, I watched Lily tugging at the picture, trying to reach her beloved snowflake. As I turned to intervene, the magnet slipped and fell, shattering upon hitting the tile floor. The sight of the broken piece broke her heart. Tears streamed down her cheeks, and instinctively, she turned to me with the hope that I could mend what was lost.
As mothers, we often spring into action, ready to fix anything that troubles our children, no matter how trivial it may seem. In their eyes, we are the ones who kiss away their scrapes, banish imaginary monsters, and locate lost treasures. As I examined the remnants of her snowflake, I began to search for my hot glue gun, determined to restore her creation. But then, reality hit me: it wasn’t just a piece that had come off; it was shattered. Embracing her, I gently told her, “Sweetheart, it’s broken, and I don’t think I can fix it.”
Watching her process this concept of irreparable brokenness struck a chord within me. It was a notion that felt too heavy for her young heart to bear. And for once, I understood her pain deeply.
If you’re a parent, you may relate to the challenge of understanding a child’s perspective. Their requests can seem outlandish, like asking for a sandwich cut into perfect triangles with a blue knife while balancing a banana on your head. But in this moment, I grasped her dilemma: how could something so dear to her be beyond repair?
This notion of brokenness resonates with me on a much deeper level. It’s not about minor issues like magnets or gadgets; it’s about our inner selves. Until that moment, I would have described my struggles as “significantly bent,” but admitting to being broken felt like a weakness.
However, for the first time, I openly acknowledge it: I am truly broken. What led to this? The loss of my mother. Not merely the moment I held her hand as she departed this world, but the slow erosion of her spirit — watching her energy fade, losing bits of her vibrant self day by day. In the midst of ordinary moments when my children play and laugh, I often think, “My mom would have cherished this.” That realization cuts deep.
We all have our own brokenness, whether it’s the small chips that wear us down or monumental events that leave us crumbled. I may not know your specific pain, but I do know this: recognizing our brokenness is the first step toward healing.
I once learned about a beautiful Japanese art form that repairs broken pottery with lacquer infused with gold. The philosophy behind this practice is to embrace the history of the object and highlight its fractures, turning them into unique beauty marks. What if we allowed our own brokenness to become the most beautiful part of who we are?
As mothers, we yearn to shield our children from life’s heartaches, wishing for smoother journeys and fair winds. I still hold this hope for my children. Yet, echoing the lesson of the broken snowflake magnet, I want to prepare them for life’s complexities.
I gathered the shattered pieces, placed the magnet back on the refrigerator, and reassured Lily, “Look, it still holds your artwork. In fact, we can now see more of the beautiful picture behind it since a piece is missing.”
My dear children, when life breaks you, may it reveal opportunities for more beauty to shine through. I pray you choose to embrace that light, for the world needs it now more than ever.
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In summary, we all face brokenness in various forms, and acknowledging that brokenness can lead to healing and renewed beauty. By embracing the lessons and light that emerge from our struggles, we can find strength and hope.
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