~ Mosaics: The beauty in the brokenness ~

The beauty in the brokenness...
no mistaking it...it's there...without the prior brokenness, can you really be/have the TRUE beauty?

The beauty in our brokenness...
It's taken me a few years to really Understand this statement. I mean, ya know, to really "get it"....to the point where it changed my heart, my way of thinking. Once it hit, I was like..."ahhhhhh". It was like finding that one or two pieces in a 1000 piece jigsaw puzzle that snap into place, giving you the 'will' to finish the puzzle. (Not a fan of *huge puzzles btw - i love smaller ones though. Otherwise it takes weeks for me to finish because I work on it a little bit at a time. I mean, who wants to sit alone for HOURS on end at a task with so little results? And the picture on the box has to be of big interest to me, has to seriously catch my eye, unless someone else picked it out, then i just love to help them. Then, unless ive made signifigant progress, i get tired of the mess and end up putting it away! BUT if I have another person working at it with me, I refuse to quit, until we are both tired of it. Then the conversation & more significant progress is worth it to me).
Oh gosh...just re-read that. Well, theres a snapshot of my brain activity for ya. There's so much about "me" in this paragraph. #selah  ;/

Moving on: A sweet friend/mentor of mine uses mosaics in her counseling process (grief recovery, etc). I wasnt at all convinced in sitting for hours in the middle of a bunch of buckets of broken glass would mean ANYthing to me. A part of my inner-OCD wanted to toss the buckets & start cleaning up! whata mess!
My first project with her in this, even though I really DID understand all the the analogies of
why she used the process, I was more memorized by the process and the challenge () of "neatly fitting" the broken shards of glass back onto my chosen 'platform' (a picture frame, a wood star, a sign, whatever item i wanted). In my mind, i wanted No edges hanging over, every space filled, but yet noooo patterns! Uhhg- is it possible to have an artistic gift with abstract, creative thinking & eyes, while at the exact same time needing/wanting order in my art? Do you think that's why the artists of great were considered a bit umm...weird?! What a battle in giving themselves wholeheartedly to their craft, with such love, abandon, excellence & devotion, while needing/wanting ....eh, perfection? Process? Structure? Concrete-ness? (Is that even a word lol)

Pause: remind me to comeback to the word good "boundaries"....on a different blog.

Anyway, here's a couple things I've learned several projects into the mosaic process - have fun with the Jesus-parallels:
1.) The beauty of mosaics is the brokenness of the glass combined with how the 'creator' puts them together. No one knows how beautiful the finished item will be, in mosaics, until it is totally done. Even then, the best part in the process, is it often turns out with more beauty than you thought possible....oh, AND the finished art pieces really grow on you (become more beautiful with time).
Some pieces really come together in the random, yet purposeful, process of assembly. They seem, to  "fit together"...yet they don't. But then, as you sift through 1000's & 1000's of broken shards of glass, like panning for gold, you find this amazing piece of glass with a unique shape & color and you think.."ah! I HAVE to use this piece"! Then you sometimes tear apart almost everything you've done to craft around that piece & fit it in somehow. No broken piece is exactly like any other, they really are like snowflakes in that way.
Listen:  The MORE BROKEN THE GLASS THE BETTER (ouch!) Large, whole, completely unbroken pieces of glass (while beautiful in perhaps color design are of no value in the process...except of course............................to BREAK.) However, breaking it too much also renders it useless. You cant use pulverized glass 'dust' for very much in the process.
The first time I had to break some larger pieces of glass, I had to grit my teeth just to get it done. What a waste?! All my life I've been taught NOT to break things (especially glass!). All my life I've been taught to fix things I've broken. ....(taught to fix things I broke).... My responsibility, no one else's. If I couldn't fix it like the way it was, the shame quickly followed. (Ouch!) Of course once i started breaking glass it was kinda therapeutic. Some days I didn't want to stop breaking things! ;)

2.) The process of creating something new and more beautiful. Ohh, the power - and on occassion (early on in the process) the intimidating 'blank canvas'. What a challenge for the perfectionist in me! There were hours I wanted to quit...nothing looked good together, it was simply me taking a few pieces (out of millions) and putting them on a platform. I was frustrated. Was this what it was "supposed to look like"?! How could I know? The thing is, you can't compare your work of Mosaic art to anyone else's as a baseline. Too much is different. What were they going for? What kind of broken glass did they have (or did they experience) to pick from, what kind of platform designs did they have available? What colors 'spoke' to them at the time? I finally came to the conclusion of my piece would not and could not possibly look like anyone else's...nor should it. That's ok. That's the beauty of it! My first couple of projects look much different than the later ones.

Bottom line: I #trust that God, my Creator, sees the bigger picture. I know He makes beautiful things. I believe He is perfect and doesn't make mistakes. I believe He uses our brokenness, as unique as it is, like shards of glass and makes things even more beautiful than what/who we were. I believe He uses every piece...EVERY piece for a reason. I believe my previous brokenness is what makes me beautiful BECAUSE I have let Him put me back together. More beautiful. I have learned to literally embrace (hang on & don't let go) the painful parts of life, to lean in, press in hard to Him through it. THIS my friends is strength,.not weakness as our culture would portray. I trust my Creator to make a beautiful piece of artwork/me. I believe that even though at different points it can appear to be ugly, I believe He does not quit, get bored, and walk away. I believe He will finished what He started to complete absolute perfection. I can't imagine nor would I want anyone else, including myself, as the Creator.

Recording artist Angie Miller (by whom i was recently motivated to pursue my dream) sings an incredible rendition of Who You Are (originally recorded by British recording artist Jessie J). Here's Angie's link to her cover ... Who You Are - Angie Miller cover
("Sometimes it's hard, to follow your heart ...but seeing is deceiving ...& dreaming is believing; it's ok not to be ok.)
The Word of God says, "We walk by faith and not by site...for things that are seen are temporary & and things that are unseen are Eternal."
It also says Christ is made perfect (in our lives) IN (/through) our weakness.
I believe Brokenness swings the door wide open for intimacy (closeness at a heart, soul, spirit level) to experience the TRUE, unconditional love of Jesus. Not what someone told you about Him, not what you've heard about Him, and certainly of what you've seen on TV about Him, and sadly, probably in others...But it opens the door for YOU to experience that #love for yourself. FOR YOURSELF! He is not selective on whom He loves...He sees our sin,and loves us JUST the same as if we had never sinned. Thanks be to God for His son Jesus.
What kind of love is this? #crayZlove  Greater love, has no man/woman than this; that he/she would lay down his/her LIFE for a friend!

Love sees beyond the brokeness to the beauty and the value of who the person is/is becoming through the process. 

I'm so thankful to God for people who've taught me how to love well...I pray I never stop learning.

To Our Creator, we say... "We trust you" to finish the good work in us.

ESJ

Hopelessness, pain, questions... And...

Sooooo....death. Such a final state.

12 hr round trip / road trip to funeral to think about this (which I'll miss).

The thing is, whether you think it's a "dream state", imaginary, or misguided...makes no difference to me..through my faith (and my friend's husband's faith, who recently passed away) I believe I'm going to heaven.  A somewhat famous atheist once said, if your faith believes in a hell for eternity after death, "how bad do you have to #hate someone to not share your faith with them?" I believe there's a multitude of ways to share my faith. Action, word, deed...just loving on people...not because of works or obligation, but because I've experienced that kind of true love from Jesus Christ.

Pause: I wish I had more creative ways to explain that kind of love to you than overused Christian cliches or adjectives...well, actually, I do, but watch for that on a different blog. I like (what our publishing culture calls) Christian fiction from time to time because the imagery is usually far more powerful on this. #moretocome

I don't know all the answers to questions like these, especially about death, and yet I deeply love the very God who created us/ gave us life. Why do people die of natural causes at a younger age, and some don't? Why do some die without really knowing the fullness of the love of God? Why are they unable to make clear decisions to give their very heart to Him? Sin has entered this world...I get it. I believe that God has a plan to prosper us and not to harm us. NOT TO HARM US! Every good thing is a Gift from Him. I won't take the time to discuss the vast differences in your/our/my definition of "good", but suffice to say (for this blog) loss of life is not #good. It's not in His original design...but I know He will and does turn all things for the good of those who DILIGENTLY seek Him (and are called according to His purpose). 

Pause: small rant--Why do we scream about injustice and the stench of the miry mucky quick sand of problems we're in, and then curse the rope that He throws us to pull us out? Why are we such stupid sheep? (Rhetorical)

I'm certain we've perverted the message of the Gospels, (most especially in The Church) and/or of the core of Christianity. I'm sorry for that...genuinely. 

Some of the questions above/below are answered due to people's circumstances (of broken hearts, broken spirits, brokenness ...) and I have compassion for them. Ive been there. They have been swallowed up and believed the age old lie of  hopelessness. I know that's how it was for me. 

I've learned it's SUPER difficult to understand/accept unconditional love in our culture. I love my parents, however, they didn't show a lot of unconditional love and I spent far too many years likening the character of God to earthy Father/parent attributes I was shown. The faithfulness (commitment) of Jesus still blows my mind. How can you be #hopeful about anything if you do not know you are #loved?!

If we are #hopeless, the Enemy of our soul has met one of His main goals. Hopelessness:  It's a very real state; a very real place for a crushed spirit, an empty heart, a devastated soul. Our culture will likely categorize hopelessness with medical terminology such as "depression", but i believe hopelessness is beyond that. Until we address the spirit, soul and (mind)/body...we as a 'new' American nation...will continue to on a destructive road.  Unless the core of our faith in the One true God comes back as our priority, we will wander in the dessert - again.

         History: a funny thing....does repeat itself  if we don't apply the things we've learned. 

Sooooo back to #death...

I cannot control it. #shocker

Personally, I can choose #life...everyday ...and talk genuinely to the One who gave me life and it 

gives me #hope! I know I have a #purpose in this life, I know I'm here for a reason and not just 

aimlessly wandering. Best yet, I know Somebody loves me!. #hope #purpose #identity #unconditional #love

Personally I can share this hope I have with others...this love that blows my mind and reaches deep into my heart, well passed my understanding. 

That much I can do...

It's reasonable...

It's an act of servant hood ...

It's an act of love...immense love....even to my enemies. How hard is it to love those who already love you? But to love those who hate you, who gossip about you, who spitefully use you...now that's love.

After all, How bad do I have to hate you to NOT share it?!

Name of my blogger user name is 'WHYILOVEYOUALL''....

and this is why....I do.

ESJ

48 hrs he's been dead...but I'm alive.

08.04.13
Sunday


At this hour I type...it has been almost exactly 48 hours since he died.

One of my best friend's (whom we'll call J) husbands (whom we'll call E).  At least twice (previously) issued a 'remission' of cancer/clean bill of health but ....Not this time...he #died.

But this isn't just someone's husband...or another cancer statistic. This time - it's different. I mean, eternally different. More than a person, more than a father, more than a husband, more than a son, more than a brother.

You see, E's surviving spouse/wife (J) is responsible for saving mine....aside from JC Himself. My mind still reels from loss of life in this family, given their impact on mine. If I had a life to spare, as in our ever-entertaining world of video game culture, he would've been given one of mine. I'd like to tell you their relationship was strong, tenured, functional and that they had some kind of clean, neat, perfectly packaged ministry of plucking lost souls from the gutter. However, at the time I met them in my 'gutter'; they didn't. I partied and did many "girls night out" nights with J!

At that time, I was facing utterly unjust actions from my previous husband regarding our son. I was coming full face with the depth of manipulation of not only individuals on a personal level, but dysfunction in our judicial system as well (ah - the small town stories were true). The odds were more than stacked against me, and for the first time in my life, I couldn't find it in me to fight back. I was panicked, as I had been a 'fighter' all my life! Things had gone on so long. My "hamburger"like-state heart had long since been sent through the meat-grinder. Self preservation had slowly drifted off and fully evaporated like a morning dew at sunrise. Gone for not only the day, but what felt like forever. Of course, my personal responsibility in this goes far back before my marriage. Too much to include here. Suffice to say, between both of our pasts, there were numerous red flags (un-seen at the time).

It was at the point of feeling a true state of hopelessness, having nothing left to live for that J&E entered back into my life. I was married so young, so being in my early/mid-twenties, with a failed marriage, my failing health, broken lives (times 3), a hopeless state of legal affairs, rising financial debt; all without chance of restoration was more than most people experience in a lifetime. The lingering tingle (of my fighter heart) of self-preservation felt permanently gone. Why bother with anything? Why bother living? What was the point? Everything was too far gone. I believed, at the time, life was not only pointless but should I happen to drive off a nearby bridge, or drink too much one night...the world would be better off. I had made such a mess of things. In my mind, and in my broken heart, the accusations and blame from others had taken root and I swallowed it all hook, line and sinker. #Sinker My life was a truly a proverbial hot, steamy...m-e-s-s. #Sinking was an understatement. I was at the depths of the unexplored ocean.

It had been a few months since one of J & I's 'girls nights out'. We still worked for the same company, but we had received promotions which moved us to separate departments. Some of J's own marital issues had kept her busy, floundering, searching. She had 'stumbled' upon a new babysitter (with 2 boys, she was still working full time, with a deployed military husband). Apparently, this new babysitter started inviting J to church. She easily accepted the invitation as she had been #raised with a message of the goodness, kindness, tenderness, faithfulness and unconditional love of Jesus. What?!

Pause.
I would've never known. Girls night out, in the hottest bar in a big city, wasn't a place we ever talked about Jesus.
             I had no idea of her upbringing. Yet there was a light in her life I can not dispute.

Eventually, J starts calling me = enter stage left. I have many times thought about the timing of her re-entering my life. To say it was a life-saver, or that she 'saved' my life sounds cliché...but you guys... I can think of no other way to explain the timing of her new annoying phone calls (during which she would invite me to church). Ha! A beer I could understand, it worked in my brain, but church? I was genuinely worried about her! Was she roped into a cult? Was she emotionally unstable? Why would I want to go to church? Who cares what kind of person is speaking at her church? What did any of that have to do with my hopeless mess of a life? Me. me. me. :(

The thing is, when you have nothing left to be hopeful about, a reoccurring invitation to church (to get your bf off your back) seems like no big deal. It's here I make no bones about how I ended up in church that day. I went simply, and utterly to get her to stop making awkward invitations ... and the donuts sounded good too. Period. Nothing spiritual about it in my head or heart. It's like this: No one goes to the mirror to remove the spinach in their teeth until they know it's there, because someone told them about it.
    _____ I had not looked in a mirror (proverbial or literal) for a long time. I had more than "spinach in my teeth" people!
     ____ I had a dead spirit and my soul and body were slowly dying with it. It was morbidity on all levels; the physical is the last to 'really' show it because it's outward where people can easily see the deterioration.

That morning I went to church with J, after the message, I remember falling / hard / to my knees.The pastor was saying something about, if after hearing the message, any part of it tugged at your heart, to come pray with the pastor. He explained who Jesus Christ was as a Savior, a Father/Abba, a King, a righteous Judge...and a Friend.
I didn't know about all though characteristics, but I can tell you this. Whatever the pastor was speaking about shot through my bones 1000's times more powerful than a 9volt battery to the tongue. He literally might as well have been reading directly out of my journal. To say I experienced fear of the Lord that morning, would be...accurate....although I had no idea what was happening. The rest was a bit of a blur that day, however the next 17 years would be written in history books (in heaven).

Years have gone by. Seventeen years since that visit to J's church. Seventeen years I have purposed, struggled, fought, and intentionally pursued a real relationship with Jesus. I'm alive...fully alive. My life has reason, purpose, hope. I know what I'm here for. I love myself, and I love other people. I try not to pass judgments on anyone because I have been the lowest of the low. Someone cared enough to come scrape me out of that gutter. I would do the same in a heartbeat. I love Jesus, and I know he gave his life for a messy one like mine. I still think about that everyday. He loves me enough to trade his Kingship, ruling all of Heaven, for my stinky, broken, m-e-s-s-e-d up life. In fact, he did that before I ever met him that day at J's church. In my #sinking, at my worst, He loved me unexplainably...but just as much as He loves me now in an awesome relationship with Him.

J had to have known that. She had to have experienced that real love of Jesus. If she hadn't, she would not have given pause to the value of my life, my state. She chose not to step over me in the gutter. That is what the love of Jesus is all about. If I can share that, pass on the fullness of His love to you...even if just one person ...then my life was a complete and total success. I have had everything. I have had plenty and been in want. I have had material things and been without. I have experienced total hopelessness and had the value of life & hope restored. Not a thing on earth can do that for me...ever.

I pray for J. today. I pray my new life, my hope restored - seventeen year life - would somehow, in some way....be a comfort to her. To know that even in her husbands death...I am alive today, in more ways than one, in large part because of them.

To the Only Wise God, The One Eternal...be all honor, and glory, and power. Amen.
To E - I can't wait to see you again; someday. I have this #hope.
To J - I dedicate this blog. I love you with all my heart. To say thank you seems miniscule.
To any readers - life is amazing. Find the Love of your Life. Purpose. Clarity. Peace. Security ...and everything else you could hope for. It's here - with the One True God.
No cheesiness...Just Truth.
#lifechanged

Elizabeth