A Broken Lamp

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I am that broken lamp. Like so many that we have in our house. They tried to light up rooms, poor lamps, but then they all took a beating. From a dodge ball that missed it’s target or a little boy’s sword. Or a dynamic wrestling trio. I try to be a light, be an encourager, exhale hope, but many times I can’t get past my own brokenness to recognize the true light that surrounds me. The natural lights. The sun, moon and stars. The overhead lights. My family. The strobe lights. These crazy little boys running in and out of every room all the time. The bedside lamp. The reliable night lights. All of the people that bring varying degrees of light into my world. I could relax in the corner, without even a lampshade on and just not work. And I do just that from time to time.

I should be on my knees everyday asking for God to help get me through, get past myself, so that I can see the beauty in others. Today I prayed that God would help me to accept others in the way that I hope others will accept me. I prayed that my faults be dimmed by the brightness of those around me. I want so badly to recognize, truly see the strong and weak working together to create the utterly beautiful. Yesterday I learned that Francis of Assisi wore patches on the outside of his habit so that people would be reminded of his imperfections on the inside. What a beautiful and visible reminder that we all have patches on both the outside and inside of our bodies. We are not perfect. And yet, we are not supposed to be. Despite the perfectness that our society promotes, it’s not the point of life. To be the most perfect looking. It’s okay to have freckles, I hope. An overbite. Got that too. Big feet. Big nose. Small boobs. The list goes on and these are just some of what society would deem physical flaws. Things I should get fixed.

The things that I need to seek the most help and attention for cannot be fixed by creams, personal trainers, plastic surgeons or orthodontists. They lie deep within. They are an ongoing project. I need to request a daily appointment with a God who can and will hopefully work on my heart. My lamp will get knocked over time and time again. I’m quite sure of it. I am hopeful that God will continue to constantly use the people around me to pick me up. Maybe even grab my lampshade. Plug me in again. Figure out what’s wrong with me. Be careful, you may get shocked. Thanks for helping me. All of you. All of the time. You may think you’re merely picking up a lamp off of the ground, but you are doing something much greater. You are noticing. I can work a lot better if I’m up off of the ground. I appreciate you. And I thank God for all of you.

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