i am the mason jar

this moment is not mine, it can't be.
some great crack in the cosmos and i find myself in someone else's moment.
this can't be for me.
these things are meant for the people who search for you, listen to you, look for you...
more often than i like to admit, that's not who i am.
because i am the one that stumbles along, shoulders hunched, hands in my pockets, eyes to my shoes.
i am the one who misses it all the time. i miss you all the time.

last i checked, my eyes were still to the ground, my hands were still in my pockets.
but this moment, i hear you now. i see you now.
you hold my face in your hands and in a breath my heart breaks open.

and suddenly i am the mason jar, trying to capture your light and hold on to whatever i can.
but there are so many cracks in the glass and the lid doesn't quite fit like it used to.
and before i can exhale, you escape like a vapor and the noise in my head returns.
the cracks get bigger, the lid gets stripped, and i cannot hold on to you.

but you keep inviting me. so i'll promise to try and hold on.
i promise to try and keep showing up.
even though what i have is more broken than whole and what i hold is more absent than present.
because you are the creating, unswerving, always here Presence.
you are always inviting me to just try... to try and hold on.

what gets broken

having a heart means that it will break. and its really no wonder, because we come into this world broken, and the life that follows is a constant struggle to mend...to fill the cracks with anything (sometimes everything) that will prevent us from breaking again. but it happens. bones break, hearts break, we break. over and over again.

when a bone in our body breaks, this amazing thing happens. if the bone is set correctly and given the time and limited space to heal, it forms this sort of 'callus' - an excess of bone tissue that grows in the exact spot that was broken. if you've ever broken a bone, you can rub your finger over that tender place and feel a lump. the lump feels weird, like something's wrong, like it doesn't belong there. but this lump is the callus, and it means that in the exact place of brokenness, the bone is stronger than it ever was before. it will never break again in that exact same place. but the build-up of this tissue, this callus, takes time and limited space.

limited space is the splint. it's creating limits within which to move, and bounds to immobilize what's been hurt. and time is patience and endurance... it's believing in the things i have not yet seen, like redemption and forgiveness. because if i try to run on this broken bone now, it will never heal. it will stay broken and i will limp forever.

give me the time and limited space to splint this, to reset this, to rest this...because i need to hope in what i have not yet seen. i need this redemption and forgiveness. i need to believe that You will form this callus in me.