let it be known, i already attempted to write this blog once…and of course i accidentally deleted it. well i would have accidentally deleted it except for the fact that i don’t really believe in accidents… which means apparently i didn’t say it quite right the first time and so now i’m getting a second chance
let me start out here…
above all else, guard your heart, for everything you do flows from it.
so, a few days ago a friend of mine decided he wanted to write a song…and for some strange reason he wanted my help.
the truth is, i love to write…songs however are not what i would call my strong point. but of course i decided to say yes and to give my two cents anyways…well just because that’s who i am.
we started to brainstorm about this song…and in the process my friend mentioned the word broken…which for some reason really made me think.
when i hand my heart to jesus, it is so much more than simply broken. my heart before jesus touches it is shattered.
let me paint a picture for you…pictures always seem to make more sense to me.
you have a vase. it is beautiful, old, classic, and extremely fragile. and not only is it old, it’s a piece of your family’s heritage that has been passed down through several generations. this vase is a very important and valued possession to say the least.
although you know how fragile it is, you place it on the table in your entry way near the front door because you want people to see it as they come into your house. you are proud of this piece and you want to share it with everyone. you realize it’s risky…but you just can’t bear to keep it shut up in a dusty old cupboard!
now imagine this…while you have gone to hang someone’s coat up…something happens to the vase.
if someone says they broke your vase, you may be worried but not devastated just yet. i think the word broken simply implies a little bit of damage. the vase may have chipped or cracked which of course is awful, but most likely you will be able to repair a broken vase.
now instead, imagine that someone comes to you with that pale worried look on their face, not quite sure how to even tell you what just happened. they inform you that they are so very very sorry but somehow they shattered your vase.
i think that word shattered makes all the difference. that vase is now on the floor all around you in a million little pieces. you have no idea where to even begin picking them up or if you will even be able to find all of the pieces. and even if you could collect them all, you don’t have the slightest idea where or how to even start putting them back together. there are just shards and slivers and remnants of vase everywhere and the truth is you are too distraught about what you have lost to even think clearly enough about piecing the puzzle back together. your heart sinks realizing that an endless amount of glue and the most skilled potter could never restore that vase to the way it was in the beginning.
that shattered vase…that is what my heart looks like when i come to jesus. my heart is not just broken. there is not just a piece missing or a little chip out of it.
a broken heart would be too easy to fix on my own. nothing a few pints of ice cream and a few quiet walks wouldn’t fix.
no, my heart is shattered. in a million little pieces all around me. i’m not sure where they all are and i can’t even seem to get a hold of them. and just when I do begin to make progress or grasp some of them, I drop them in despair because i have no idea what to do with them once i pick them up. i look at the condition of my shattered heart and my eyes fill with tears because I am sure that my heart won’t ever be able to love the way it was meant to. it will always be cracked, always visibly damaged.
ahh, but jesus. he knows just what to do. he knows just what order to pick up those pieces and exactly how to gently put each of them back in place and intricately fill in every crack and crevice and empty place. it is a slow process, it takes a lot of time, but he is patient and faithful to see it through and to put every bit of love and energy into restoring my heart.
but only when i come to him. he can only fix what i allow him to fix.
i just imagine myself sitting on my knees, my head low and tears streaming down my face frantically sifting through the pieces in a desperate attempt to make some sense out of them…when finally I look up at him through tear filled eyes and ask him to please…please make something out of this mess.
and gently he would smile as he knelt down to begin picking up the pieces and graciously he would tell me to just sit back and rest while he fixes everything.
that’s why I prefer to refer to my heart as shattered rather than broken. because it makes the picture of jesus restoring it that much more beautiful.
and this, this is why I must guard my heart. it took me so long to understand what this verse was really saying, but now I understand on such a personal level.
just like that precious, valuable vase, i know the value and frailty of my heart. i know that it is something to be protected and treasured…but for some reason i keep putting it on that entry way table because i want people to see it…despite the risk i know that I am taking.
time and time again it gets knocked off and shattered into a million little pieces. and so often i am left surrounded by all of those little shards and fragments, ashamed because i was so careless with something so precious again.
thankfully, jesus is so patient and so gracious and each time he works so vigorously to restore my heart to an even better condition than it was before the drop. i watch him heal and fill in every empty place again and again.
but how much more could I show my love for him if i would value and guard all of the love and energy he put into piecing it back together the first time….if my heart could constantly hold and release love the way he intended it too rather than enduring times of extreme healing and restoration on account of my own carelessness.