The next excerpt I have is from Charles Martin's book The Mountain Between Us.
"For so long I'd carried the pieces of me. Every now and then I'd drop one like a bread crumb. So I could find my way home.........
Maybe each of us was once a complete whole. A clear picture. A single piece. Then something happened to crack and shatter us. Leaving us disconnected, torn and splintered. Some of us lie in a hundred pieces. Some ten thousand. Some are edged with sharp contrast. Some dim shades of gray. Some find they are missing pieces. Some find they have too many. In any case we are left shaking our heads. It can't be done.
Then someone comes along who mends a tattered edge, or returns a lost piece. The process is tedious, painful, and there are no short cuts. Anything that promises to be one is not.
But somehow, as we walk from the crash site - away from the wreckage - whole sections start taking shape, something vague we see out of the corner of our eye. For a second, we stop shaking our heads. We wonder. Maybe...just maybe.
It's risky for both of us. You must hope in an image you can't see, and I must trust you with me.
That's the piecing."
I don't know about you, but I can name one after another the events that shattered me. In my 20's I began the "piecing" process. I believe these words accurately depict the progression of life with other people as a whole. Life this side of heaven is a delicate dance. I don't think the question is "Why is there pain and brokenness in the world?". I think the question is "How do we pick up the pieces?". I can honestly say that without Christ I never would have bothered. It really breaks my heart when I realize how many people don't bother.
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