As if by loving pieces...

Often in my job I interact with people who, from the viewpoint of society, are hopeless cases. Due to actions over which they had little control or sometimes even due to their own mistakes, they wander through life "broken". They can't cope with life and so have developed ways of escaping the reality that most of us navigate on a day to day basis. The challenge for us who are "normal" - and I use that term very loosely - is that we tend to mentally elevate ourselves above them. We see ourselves as better because we are not "broken", at least not in as visible a way as they are. Or we try to "fix" them, and get frustrated when they can't seem to get it together no matter what we try. I am learning that the goal is not so much to fix as it is to love. The way we treat what is broken shows the way we love the one who gave it to us. I wrote a poem about this not to long ago - God spoke to me through the combination of my klutziness and a family heirloom.

As if by loving pieces…

Once, in my carelessness,
I broke a tea cup.
An heirloom,
All we have left of my wife’s grandmother.

I break a lot of things.
We just sweep the shards into a pile
And toss them in the garbage.

Not this time.
We carefully picked up each piece;
Saved it,
As if it were an act of love for grandma,
As if by loving pieces we could restore the whole.

Once, in our carelessness,
We broke the world.