brokeness

In my last (very lengthy) post I told you about the Willow Tree figure my mom gave me the day Miss C was born. And how it broke when she dropped it. And how I cried when I came upon it weeks later.

It had broken in half just beneath the mother's arms. The irony of this struck me so hard -- thus the massive crying fest that ensued.

I did eventually glue it back together, and only if you look closely can you see a crack and a tiny missing chip in back. Again with the irony. I confess I hold this particular item very dear to my heart.



It is interesting that only in our brokeness before our Lord can we be made whole in Him.