Collateral Damage . . .

When I was in high school I received a special gift from someone dear to me.  It was a delicate Lladro figurine of a girl in an all white dress with intricate raised detailing at the bottom.  The girl, her hands clasped behind her back, her head tilted to the side, a look of peace on her face, represented {to me} purity, virtue and wholesomeness.  She stood on my desk as a reminder of what I could be.

She has traveled with me from home to home all this time. About four years ago I unwrapped her and put her in Hannie B.’s room to give her the same beautiful reminder I’d had.

Yesterday the figurine became collateral damage when the shelf it stood on, newly installed, fell right off the wall, its contents crashing noisily to the ground.  As I rummaged through the mess, this is what I found {minus fifty tiny shards I vacuumed up}:

I’ll admit, I was upset.  Nothing else on the shelf broke.  Only the one thing of any remote emotional significance to me.  I picked up the pieces, realizing immediately that the damage was irreparable, and set them gently on the bed. Then I reinforced the shelf, rehung it and replaced the items that had fallen from it – minus the figurine.

In life, there is collateral damage.  We are merely fragile human figurines. Events come and go – some softly, others, like a shelf crashing to the ground. Sometimes we fall.  Often we are able to get back up,  slightly bruised, but unbroken.  Other times we are shattered and the damages seem irreparable, the emotional toll too great and the possibility of being whole again obsolete.

But I know that there is hope.  And I know that we are not alone.  We have family, friends and most importantly, a Savior, who shares our grief, our sorrows and our burdens. 

He is the Great Rebuilder.  He can make us whole.  He alone can put pieces together that seem beyond help. And that is what I cling to when I am nothing but a broken girl in a white dress.