When you found her
She wasn’t looking for a hero to save her.
She wasn’t a project in need of repair.
She wasn’t looking for a rock
She had a Jesus
She wasn’t needing direction from you or correction for being her
She was a beautiful mosaic
Put back together after being shattered in a million pieces
Those cracks you see as flaws or imperfections
They are who she is
They represent her strength
The battles she fought and won
The tears she cried
Those cracks allow her light to shine
They allow her to empathize with those in pain
They allow her to be kind
They allow her to shine her love and warmth upon another
They allow her to be her
Those cracks are what make her who she is
Yet you continue to put patches on these cracks
You tell her to be real, to be herself
While you place the patches over her cracks
Trapping her inside.
Each crack you patch you devalue a piece of her
You are telling her that she should feel ashamed and not
Proud that she was able to put all those shattered pieces
Together with His grace and mercy
Do you not see the beauty that someone could shatter
Yet put herself back together and become whole?
That she could use her brokenness to radiate her light into a dark world
Do you not see the strength it would take to give of herself so freely
After working so hard to make herself whole?
To be willing to sacrifice the world she exist in and willing to take her fragileness
To be placed in your hands?
The more patches that are placed over her cracks,
She loses sight of who she has worked so hard to become.
Did her light shine to bright for you?
Did it make you feel undeserving of her?
For each crack you cover,
She loses her light until eventually it is trapped within
No light will escape
She hides in her darkness
Drowning in the sorrow of her tears
She continues to stand for who she is
But you do not hear it behind the desire of you own needs and wants
She continues to scream out as you place patches over who she is
She cries out to you
As she slowly sinks
Yet you just stand there continuing to place patches on what’s left of her cracks
The cracks of her very being, the real her
The weight of the repair starts to become heavy
Your pride and ego become her anchor
The winds of constant change, churn the waters into chaos
The storm rages, reaching to grab on to safety or stability but its no where to be found
And yet you wonder why she can’t just swim
You are taking away her existence
Her value and her worth
You place wordly needs, wants and desires ahead of her
Your pride drowns out her cries
You stand there and watch her sink
Your choices and decisions have become her anchor in the sea of her tears
And as you stand there and watch her sink, screaming for her to swim
You patched up her light, her strength, her being
Those patches weigh her down
And she is schakled by the pain and her burning desire to please you
She would rather drown to spend one more moment with you
Than to risk living without you.
This love you show her
Is one that says I love you for that you can become
Just after I put a few more patches here.
The strength she exhibits is a strength you cannot phathom
But dismiss because it is not a reflection of your own.
She gives you her vulnerablilty as she continues to drown
and yet you chose to hide behind your walls protecting your pride.
Do you see her? The beautiful masterpiece she had become?
Or do you let your selfishness and pride push her aside.