Five Minute Friday: Broken

Sipping tea and the breeze is coming in, scents of rain and I think of Mom. "The dirt smells so good I just want to eat it!" And as funny as it is, I feel the same way today. Smells so good. 

And I remember days and weeks where the simple smell of rain soaked earth would not matter, was over looked, was not treated as gift and joy uncovered. Weeks blurred together in ache and toil and we felt our time slipping, our efforts useless, and sank with despair because, newsflash, we could not be God.

I am thankful for those days. Never thought I'd say it. Those lonesome and painful days. Grateful for the view from the other side, the dark and twisty places, valleys deep and cold. For when you know these places, know them well and good, the small trail still climbing steep, hard work into the unknown, seems all that more wonderful. 

There is purpose in the broken moments, broken people. There is a time for the valley and for the peak. And in this small moment I am grateful for the broken places, the deep valleys. The journey He leads may break you, but it also makes you, He makes you. We might be broken, but the path never is. And I better for it.

Thank for the peek of sun, puppy chow made and we feel  like kids again, the quiet rain, secrets whispered in the night under covers, the rock in my shoe, I'm afraid the bridesmaid dress may split when I sit (shouldn't have eaten too much puppy chow!), and grateful still that even when the trail leads again down low to the deep, as it always seems to do, I'm not alone. He guides, even in the dark.

What a beautiful adventure.

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