I’m broken, too. #sharingbroken

A few years after Brady and I were first married, he bought me a brand new laptop. We were living in a white condo with white cupboards and white doors (I was super excited about this at the time – I have since learned that white is not always my friend when it comes to cleanliness).

I was super excited to step up from my 275 square foot first apartment to a condo…wait for it…with STEPS! Growing up, I never had steps. We were strictly a ranch style family. So this was seriously living the big life. Upstairs there was a bathroom connecting the two bedrooms – did I mention TWO bedrooms? We turned one into a REAL office, and we were grown up and married: ADULT official.

And then, this one time, I left my laptop on the floor by the bed. You know where this is going, don’t you?

Yep, I crawled out of bed and literally stepped ON THE SCREEN. I shattered it into a thousand pieces, people. That laptop was no longer laptop-ing. It was officially broken. To be used no more. Gone with the wind. Forgotten. Trash. Junk. Bye-bye-bye (Are you singing that? Yeah, I thought so).

I have not been known to take very good care of my electronics. Brady is constantly moving my current lap top off of edges of tables, or foot stools, or other precarious locations. It’s not that I’m careless, I just have so many things to be excited about that I quickly forget about the last thing I was doing! I call it Dreamer’s Distraction Disease (I just made that up, but I really like it, so I think I’ll keep it).

I used to feel like being broken, person broken, meant keeping it quiet. Gone with the wind. Forgotten. Trash. Junk. Bye-bye-bye (one more chance to sing the thing). I used to hide my broken and stuff it. I used to be mad at my broken and blame all the people who broke me, pointing fingers at them for breaking my heart, stealing my innocence, taking my trust. I used to have all kinds of excuses for staying angry, not forgiving, holding a grudge.

Until I told my truth.

When I finally realized my lack of forgiveness was holding me captive, I slammed on my knees and forgave. When I finally realized there was freedom in sharing broken, I got vulnerable and told my story. I even wrote a book about it.

Have you ever heard of Kintsugi? It’s the Japanese art of fixing broken pottery with gold. It’s the idea of emphasizing the brokenness INSTEAD of hiding it. The cracks in pottery are filled with genuine value – the ultimate metal. When we hide in the darkness, keeping our brokenness near, guarding it, we are damaging ourselves and those around us. We don’t get the gold if we’re hiding the pain.

The explosions that come from stuffing and hiding hurt us and hurt others. But what if we went all Kintsugi on that hurt and shared it with a trusted friend, confidante, or counselor, refusing to let that broken hold us hostage?

It’s a thought.

A freeing one.

Let’s start #sharingbroken and experience the beauty and freedom that comes with being real.

I wrote a book about choosing forgiveness, choosing vulnerability, and choosing all kinds of things in order to live the Best Day Ever Adventure. John 10:10 says that Jesus came so we could have life and life abundant. But we need to CHOOSE! If you want to be challenged to choose, pick the book up here