When I got to Colorado, I noticed a lot of people with broken windshields. It seemed like an unusually large number compared to other places. Then a rock chipped mine.
It was just a little ding and din't obscure my vision, so I didn't worry about it. A few days later, I noticed the chip was a crack.
A couple of weeks later, Nancy and I were driving through the mountains and we heard something cracking. Then some more and some more. We sat there and watched helplessly as the crack slowly spread across the whole windshield.
I don't know if it's altitude, or temperature differences or what the deal is, but it seems like chips turn into fast running cracks in Colorado more than anywhere. We replaced the windshield. Then got a chip. And it's happened again. It's crazy making.
This last time, the crack spread along the bottom, across the length of the windshield. I was planning to get it replaced again, then I noticed something. When sunlight hit the crack, it refracted and made this beautiful blue line across the dashboard.
Looking at it made me wonder; is that why God leaves us broken?
There are beautiful stories of healing. People healed miraculously, from cancer, injuries, addiction, mental illness, pride, all kinds of things. Then there are other stories. Stories of struggle. Of woundedness. Stories of people just as faithful, just as committed, still broken.
There's something interesting about those stories. When we share them, they are the ones that resonate the most with us. They are the ones that move us. They seem more real. They add color.
It can be hard to be transparent, to reveal our cracks. We want everyone to look at us and see an undamaged windshield. I think we're missing the point. Because only when people see our pain, our flaws, our struggle, can they understand the beauty of our story.
It was just a little ding and din't obscure my vision, so I didn't worry about it. A few days later, I noticed the chip was a crack.
A couple of weeks later, Nancy and I were driving through the mountains and we heard something cracking. Then some more and some more. We sat there and watched helplessly as the crack slowly spread across the whole windshield.
I don't know if it's altitude, or temperature differences or what the deal is, but it seems like chips turn into fast running cracks in Colorado more than anywhere. We replaced the windshield. Then got a chip. And it's happened again. It's crazy making.
This last time, the crack spread along the bottom, across the length of the windshield. I was planning to get it replaced again, then I noticed something. When sunlight hit the crack, it refracted and made this beautiful blue line across the dashboard.
Looking at it made me wonder; is that why God leaves us broken?
There are beautiful stories of healing. People healed miraculously, from cancer, injuries, addiction, mental illness, pride, all kinds of things. Then there are other stories. Stories of struggle. Of woundedness. Stories of people just as faithful, just as committed, still broken.
There's something interesting about those stories. When we share them, they are the ones that resonate the most with us. They are the ones that move us. They seem more real. They add color.
It can be hard to be transparent, to reveal our cracks. We want everyone to look at us and see an undamaged windshield. I think we're missing the point. Because only when people see our pain, our flaws, our struggle, can they understand the beauty of our story.
No comments:
Post a Comment