Ribbons and Shards

Lately I've been having conversations with people around all kinds of difficult topics in their lives: struggling marriages, issues with kids, pieces of the past that keep popping up out of nowhere, anger, hurt, bitterness, illness, death.  Quite a list.

I'm thankful for those who are brave enough to share from their hearts. It reminds me how desperately we need to be known as well as to know others. A community weaves together through the ups and downs, highs and lows. Its strength is in its truth.  Some communities have an impressive tapestry of connections, but no strength to withstand a tempest.

Just a few days ago during our VBS parent night, each small group created its own web of ribbon while the teachers read about Phillip and the Ethiopian from the book of Acts in the bible. Every time a different speaker read, the person holding the ball of ribbon grabbed hold of the line and threw the ball to someone who didn't have any yet. By the end of the reading, everyone was holding onto the ribbon, forming a colorful interweaving between each member.

The point of that activity was to demonstrate how God weaves our lives together at just the right time and in just the right way to fulfill His perfect purposes in us. Thinking back over the conversations I mentioned earlier, I realize that each time someone shares their heart with me, they are throwing me the ribbon. Am I grabbing hold? Am I interceding in prayer? Am I taking their need to heart? Or am I just passing it on to the next open hand, hoping that person will have the love, the courage, the grace to step up?

Here's where I have to admit that at times I have dropped the ribbon. I have missed out on community. I have missed out on the privilege to connect with a sister or brother in Christ who needed His Truth in a situation. I've missed out on God's blessing.

Sometimes I don't want to pass the ribbon.  I don't want to be the one sharing. That's need. Not comfortable. Not easy. Not palatable.

The good news is that our God never gives up. His patient persistence outlasts my resistance.  First Corinthians 12:18 states that "God arranged the members in the body, each one of them, as He chose" (ESV).  That's the challenge. Be where He placed me. Be present. Be alert. Be real.

Be real.  He is real.

A little over a month ago, while thinking of some tough situations, I wrote these words:

Broken People

We are broken, broken people

Praising God beneath the steeple.

We are broken, broken people in God’s hand.

We are broken, broken people

Serving God beneath the steeple.

We are broken,  broken people in God’s hand.

But if we’re broken

Then we’re fixable

And shards make great mosaics

People recognize His grace among the pieces.

If we’re broken

Then our bragging rights

Smash against His Holy Light

And we recognize He’ll place us

Where He pleases.

We are broken, but we’re His,

Because of Jesus.

Thankfully there’ll come a day

When our brokenness is swept away

Thankfully there’ll come a day

We’re free.

And we’ll look into that Holy Light

 Of the One once broken for our kind

And He’ll say, “My broken child,

You are whole—come Home with Me!”

And if we’re broken

Then we’re fixable

And shards make great mosaics.

People recognize His grace among the pieces.

If we’re broken

Then our bragging rights

Smash against His Holy Light

And we recognize He’ll place us

Where He pleases.

We are broken, but we’re His,

Because of Jesus.

Just Another Day?

June 5, 2000. For those in Sumatra, it was tragic as a deadly earthquake rocked the land. For others, this was just another day in a new millennium. Same cereal for breakfast, same TV show after dinner.

For those of us in Tempe, Arizona, it was hot. One hundred eleven degrees. Yes, you read it correctly, 111 degrees.  For a man named Trent and a woman named Bridget (that's me, folks), it was a dream come true--our wedding day.  The sun rose like any other day, warm and bright. But this day, this day was different.

I sat by the pool and spent time with my Lord in close conversation. He-Who-Never-Changes would walk me from one name to another. He assured me that morning that He would stay the same no matter what. And He was giving me the man of my dreams for real. I just knew everything was going to be wonderful.

And pretty much everything was wonderful. Oh, there was the usual: a bridesmaid "whoops, I forgot to bring the ring for pre-wedding photos!" moment; 111-degree heat stroke hovering at our shoulders for the lengthy outdoor pictures (which turned out beautifully); the tape player that chose to run at its own pace and warp the music for our grand entrance; the groomsmen who made last minute changes to the steps we were to walk up--without telling us.

There was also the incredible blessing of so many smiling faces starting us off on the first day of the rest of our lives. All that previous year Trent and I said we wanted our wedding to be Simple, Elegant, and Enjoyable.  The Lord definitely brought that about for us. Thanks to our parents for all of their love and support, and especially to my mom for the many last-minute decisions made to keep things running smoothly!

Thirteen years now walk beside us.  Each year shows its crowning glories and sound defeats. These are the mile markers we pass by again and again, reminding us of our own great fallibility and His own great love.  These are the proofs of faith and trust. These are the foundation stones of a legacy.

June 5, 2013.  Just another day? Perhaps. For Trent and Bridget Groothuis, this day is a gift.