Broken, Bright & Beautiful
I stare at the computer clock, as it flickers to 12:00 AM… and a miracle happens:
A blog is posted.
You may not think of technology as a “miracle”, but in this moment, I do.
That blog post represents years of prompting from the Lord, matched with lack of sureness, on my behalf. Then, bravery as I stepped out onto a path I couldn’t entirely see or understand.
Watching a dream from birth unto fruition is truly a miracle of sorts. Like the slow and delicate unfolding of a flower—from sprout, to bud, to a burst of color and beauty none could have predicted.
So, in this moment, I sit back, in awe, of this surprising beauty that has somehow come of my own shattered and scarred life.
Paul’s words in 2 Corinthians 4:7 come to mind, “But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us.”
And, in this moment, I grasp the truth a little tighter; understand a little deeper that my dreams are not about me, my talents, my abilities, my strength…
Instead God chose me for my ordinariness, my inabilities, myweaknesses—so that His glory may be displayed, ever brighter, through this earthen vessel.
Every bit of my brokenness, and every shortcoming I’ve despised—it’s those things that create the space for His light to shine forth.
Humbled… in this moment I am humbled.
Lord, let me remain weak, so that Your beauty may shine.
A Drop in the Bucket
Crumbs cover the couch. Books lie, scattered across the floor. A cup of coffee brews to awaken my foggy brain.
Dirty dishes remain in the sink, reminding me of the chaotic morning that started this tiresome day. I grab my cup of coffee and cradle it close, taking in the aroma.
This was supposed to be just another “normal” day, with the exception of our bi-annual trip to the dentist for my oldest two. While I can’t say I expected a trip to the dentist with three children (one, with sensory issues; another, a squirmy toddler) to be a walk in the park, I decided this time I would run at it head-on, with a positive outlook.
As it would be, the boys awoke, ultra-cantankerous, my 6-year-old melting down at every turn. By the time we raced out the door, granola bars, half-eaten carrot bits and spilled milk “decorated” our living room.
And to give you a mental picture of the dentist visit itself, imagine as so:
Three out of three, crying.
Me, wrestle-holding one as the poor assistant attempted to clean his teeth.
Another, sulking in the corner, knowing he’s next up on deck for the same.
And one little Mama’s girl toddler clambering to be held and SCREAMING from the chaos.
Survival mode kicked in. I resorted to bribery and got done just in time before I was the one having a melt-down.
In a daze, I dropped them off at school and came home to face a lengthy list of work, and two hours to do it in, after quite possibly the most exhausting morning ever.
Tired, discouraged, and feeling like nothing other than a good cry, I sit down to my makeshift bean taco lunch and open my phone up to Timehop, hoping for a hearty, healing laugh…
And I see this.
Something strikes me about it, and cleansing tears began to roll as the familiar saying blows gently into my overwhelmed soul--
“The days are long, but the years are short.”
Ultimately, I’m not going to remember this stress-ridden, frustration-filled morning.
In the end, this day is just another drop in the bucket of time I have with my children. Time that is moving way too fast for me to get tangled up in one morning that didn’t go my way.
I sip my coffee and realize that I can choose one of two paths:
a.) Continue going on about my day with a cloud of negativity and stress over my head, discounting any good that could yet come of it or
b.) Move on, count my blessings and remember not to sweat the small stuff.
The small stuff.
That stuff that seems S O B I G , in the moment, until it’s put it into the scope of a lifetime; until it pales in the presence of my immeasurable blessings; until I quiet my soul in the comfort of God’s Word…then its impact evaporates into thin air.
I choose Path B.
I choose joy instead of frustration; peace instead of anxiety; thankfulness instead of bitterness.
Each and every day.
Because those days make up weeks, then months, then years that make up a lifetime- a legacy I leave for my children.
While I may not know what tomorrow holds, I do know this: My children are growing faster than my heart can handle, and I refuse to let a bad day be a blight to my blessings.
“Always be full of joy in the Lord. I say it again—rejoice!” Philippians 4:4
A little about me...
Hi, I'm Katie!
Wife to Craig, mom of three, author, writer, Rooted Moms founder, Jesus-follower, Bible teacher, and coffee enthusiast.
Follow me as I follow Christ and share my heart throughout the journey.