broken

So, I walked to a coaching appointment today, like I always do. I passed the usual "unusual" people: the guy who always sits on the same bench in the park, day after day, just staring straight ahead; the lady who mutters to herself and writes constantly in a notebook. I tried to catch a glance at what she was writing today. I couldn't quite make it out, but her script was large, like a child's.

I saw other broken things on the way: a broken down old building, broken tiles in the sidewalk, broken glass shattered on the pavement. I pass these things and people all the time, but today I just felt so tired of this broken place.

And yet, for just a few seconds, I also experienced utter beauty. It was so short; maybe 10 steps in duration. I was looking down at my feet as I passed under one of those trees drooping with gorgeous yellow flowers. The sidewalk was dappled with shade, and carpeted with fallen golden blossoms. If I really concentrated, I could block out all the ugliness around me and isolate myself in that island of beauty.

But all to soon it was over. I was walking once again in the harsh glare of the sun and reality.

The brokenness of this place seeps into the soul. I am not the person I once was. Sadder but wiser comes to mind; but mostly just sadder. I have become broken in the process of throwing myself at all that is wrong here. But in the end, the boulder of despair remains unmoved. I haven't even dented it.

Mr., too, has been affected. He carries the pain of discouragement and disappointment, lodged deeply in his heart. A stubborn splinter that lies buried and festering. Gentle soul that he is, sometimes he lashes out when a person or circumstance presses unknowingly against that painful sliver of dead dreams.

I know God values brokenness, but I don't think this is what He was talking about. Anger, disappointment, distrust, hopelessness. Something is not right there. But I don't understand holy brokenness yet. I want desperately to learn the deeper lessons from this difficult time. I just don't quite know what they are yet.

Last night I saw a dog. It was scrawny and mangy, hovering by the street curb. One leg stuck out at an odd angle, obviously broken and never set, unusable. As we drove away I cried. I wanted to take it home and fix everything.

And yet how many broken people do I pass with heart hardened and unmoved? That, too, seems broken in me. But animals are so innocent, subjected to the pain of a fallen world that they had no part in making. We humans are pretty vile. Much of the time we either create our own pain and peril, or force it on others. I have seen too much of human nature to believe there is any goodness in it, apart from God.

I'm tired of broken. I just want wholeness for a while.

And yet, walking back home from coaching, I mostly looked up, taking in the beauty above me. Big billowy white clouds in the very blue sky. One friend says the clouds feel closer here, and she's right.

Then all of a sudden I heard a startled noise beside me. I glanced over to see a man pointing at the ground by my feet. Looking down I saw an expensive-looking cell phone lying on the sidewalk. I just managed to avoid stepping on it. Puzzled, I looked back to see the man pick it up, look at it, and then replace it on the sunny sidewalk, right where it had been. I have no idea why. My only guess would be that it's a solar-powered phone—which would be a good idea. Recharging it on a busy sidewalk, however, would be a bad idea.

OK. So this place is a bit weird, too. Weird AND broken. With bits of beauty mixed in.