February 5

Meeting friends for coffee has become one of my favorite weekday morning activities. Sometimes, it's merely fluff-talk that makes me laugh, or political repartee that stirs up my blood a bit. Other decidedly rarer meetings generate more serious food for thought. I had an experience of the latter variety this past week. We were talking about our challenges when with an honesty that I can muster with few people face-to-face, I made an abrupt, pride-crushing confession: I am so broken.

I think it all the time --especially this time of year, when the less pleasant memories strengthen and it feels like I'm fumbling through the hours-- but saying it aloud gave it new meaning. Less weight, somehow, but also different meaning. We're all broken in our own ways, she replied, and of course, she was right. It's the ugly truth. I wasn't sure what else to say so we moved on to a different topic. But that snippet of conversation stuck with me and the question lingered in the back of my mind: what do I do with the brokenness?

The answer isn't as easy as I want it to be. The cut-and-dried, slam-bam-thank-you-ma'am response is 'give it to Jesus and let it go' or 'be healed, in Jesus' name.' They're valid answers, but they don't provide an outlet for the all-too-real, all-too-human pain that watching Logan die and then learning to live again in the aftermath burned into my soul. Platitudes don't help with that brand of scorching, life-changing agony.

I still don't have a good answer to my own question, and that's okay. But I feel like i got a nudge in the right direction at church this morning. The visiting worship leader shared that he'd written a new chorus to go along with an old hymn. Thanks to my goldfish-style memory, I can't remember either detail, but I do remember the crux: turn your brokenness into praise. Find purpose for the pain.

I have to flesh out what that means to me, but I know there must be something in it, given the timing of the message. How can I continue to use my heartbreak in a way that both helps me to keep living and glorifies God? I don't really know. But I'm thankful for the reminders to figure it out. (Since there's not really a way to illustrate this one, the pic is of the flowers someone left on Logan's grave. As you can see, they were beautiful this afternoon, so thank you, mystery person.)