Tears streamed down my face. In agony, I rushed through the house, arms flailing—shredding the air.
It was the year 1993 and I was about 6 years old.
So you could imagine that when my plastic, play dress-up high heels had broken, it was practically the end of the world as I knew it. At least the end of the imaginary world in my head where I was the princess. Cinderella never broke a shoe. She just lost it. My shoe was broken. How was the prince going to find me now?
I don’t remember having a six-year-old version of a meltdown, but I do remember Dad lovingly scooping me up in his arms, placing me on his lap, and telling me, “It’s okay, Khristina. We can fix that.”
“You can? How?” I said with a meek voice that had found hope through deep breaths from a panting chest.
“I have special shoe glue.” His voice was calm and gentle.
He wiped my tears, and took me to his workbench in the garage. He mixed his “shoe glue” which really was just epoxy. I can still smell the chemical reaction when the two substances were combined—it had kind of a burning smell. (Side note, epoxy fixes practically anything.)
I watched him carefully. Dad glued the sparkly bow back in place, and glued the strap back to the sole. And just like that, my shoes were fixed. They were better than new because they were fixed with love. Whenever I looked at my shoes, or played dress-up, I thought of my father, and how he stopped what he was doing to fix my broken shoes.
We have this same beautiful gift from our Eternal Father in Heaven. It’s the gift that God will turn our ashes into beauty, our mourning into gladness, and a faint spirit into praise (See Isaiah 63:1). God will create beauty out of brokenness.
God has a theme of character of taking the broken things—the things of tragedy, and even the things of death—and transforming them into things of beauty, things of light, things that are life-giving.
In John 6, we talked about how Jesus is the Bread of Life. This gift of full satisfaction from His sacrifice is evident in the picture of communion—the breaking of bread.
"While they were eating, Jesus took bread, and when He had given thanks, He broke it and gave it to His disciples, saying, 'Take and eat; this is My body'” (Matthew 26:26).
The bread is a symbol of the cross where His body was broken.
If we truly want to be like Christ, we have to accept brokenness as a part of our journey. God does not give us brokenness (unless maybe we’re stubborn like Jacob, then you get a broken hip! – see Genesis 32); but God uses the brokenness to show His glory. To take up our own cross, we are to be broken.
We live in a broken world, and we are broken people; so brokenness is an inevitable part of our lives. And sometimes, that brokenness is even created out of our own choices.
BUT we serve a God who is the ultimate fixer, the ultimate healer, and the holder of the ultimate "epoxy glue" that fixes everything. And like my dad’s “special shoe glue,” when God fixes what is broken, we are reminded of His acts of love when we see the beauty He creates from our broken pieces.
To this day, Dad and I endearingly call epoxy glue “shoe glue.”
Scripture References:
John 6:10-11: "Jesus said, 'Have the people sit down.' There was plenty of grass in that place, and they sat down (about five thousand men were there). 11 Jesus then took the loaves, gave thanks, and distributed to those who were seated as much as they wanted. He did the same with the fish."
Matthew 26:26: “While they were eating, Jesus took bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and gave it to his disciples, saying, ‘Take and eat; this is my body.’”
Psalm 31:12: "I have been forgotten like one who is dead; I have become like a broken vessel."
2 Corinthians 4:7: “But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us.”
It was the year 1993 and I was about 6 years old.
So you could imagine that when my plastic, play dress-up high heels had broken, it was practically the end of the world as I knew it. At least the end of the imaginary world in my head where I was the princess. Cinderella never broke a shoe. She just lost it. My shoe was broken. How was the prince going to find me now?
I don’t remember having a six-year-old version of a meltdown, but I do remember Dad lovingly scooping me up in his arms, placing me on his lap, and telling me, “It’s okay, Khristina. We can fix that.”
“You can? How?” I said with a meek voice that had found hope through deep breaths from a panting chest.
“I have special shoe glue.” His voice was calm and gentle.
He wiped my tears, and took me to his workbench in the garage. He mixed his “shoe glue” which really was just epoxy. I can still smell the chemical reaction when the two substances were combined—it had kind of a burning smell. (Side note, epoxy fixes practically anything.)
I watched him carefully. Dad glued the sparkly bow back in place, and glued the strap back to the sole. And just like that, my shoes were fixed. They were better than new because they were fixed with love. Whenever I looked at my shoes, or played dress-up, I thought of my father, and how he stopped what he was doing to fix my broken shoes.
We have this same beautiful gift from our Eternal Father in Heaven. It’s the gift that God will turn our ashes into beauty, our mourning into gladness, and a faint spirit into praise (See Isaiah 63:1). God will create beauty out of brokenness.
God has a theme of character of taking the broken things—the things of tragedy, and even the things of death—and transforming them into things of beauty, things of light, things that are life-giving.
In John 6, we talked about how Jesus is the Bread of Life. This gift of full satisfaction from His sacrifice is evident in the picture of communion—the breaking of bread.
"While they were eating, Jesus took bread, and when He had given thanks, He broke it and gave it to His disciples, saying, 'Take and eat; this is My body'” (Matthew 26:26).
The bread is a symbol of the cross where His body was broken.
If we truly want to be like Christ, we have to accept brokenness as a part of our journey. God does not give us brokenness (unless maybe we’re stubborn like Jacob, then you get a broken hip! – see Genesis 32); but God uses the brokenness to show His glory. To take up our own cross, we are to be broken.
We live in a broken world, and we are broken people; so brokenness is an inevitable part of our lives. And sometimes, that brokenness is even created out of our own choices.
BUT we serve a God who is the ultimate fixer, the ultimate healer, and the holder of the ultimate "epoxy glue" that fixes everything. And like my dad’s “special shoe glue,” when God fixes what is broken, we are reminded of His acts of love when we see the beauty He creates from our broken pieces.
To this day, Dad and I endearingly call epoxy glue “shoe glue.”
Scripture References:
John 6:10-11: "Jesus said, 'Have the people sit down.' There was plenty of grass in that place, and they sat down (about five thousand men were there). 11 Jesus then took the loaves, gave thanks, and distributed to those who were seated as much as they wanted. He did the same with the fish."
Matthew 26:26: “While they were eating, Jesus took bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and gave it to his disciples, saying, ‘Take and eat; this is my body.’”
Psalm 31:12: "I have been forgotten like one who is dead; I have become like a broken vessel."
2 Corinthians 4:7: “But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us.”