That morning in my kitchen felt normal. It is my domain! I allow others in, but everyone knows it belongs to me. There was hustle, bustle, and rustle, as I merrily went about the start of my day. Then, one careless move, and change came.
I dropped the dish. My favorite dish. The only dish I owned that had belonged to my mother.
There had been no way to stop it. That split second changed the life of that dish forever. Watching it fall felt like my world was in slow motion, and I froze. Then, the crash to the floor came, and I watched the dish that had once been whole — and a part of my life — explode into broken pieces, slivers, and fragments.
I envisioned having rewind capability — watching the pieces ‘whoosh’ back together, as if it never happened.
But, no. It was broken. Irreparable. Smashed to smithereens.
I guess I could have stared at it longer, but I knew I had to spring into action! It had to be removed quickly before someone was hurt by the broken pieces.
I was not prepared for the daunting task — I had no shoes nearby — and the floor was covered with glass.
Stepping cautiously and slowly, I managed to grab a dustpan to use as my weapon. (Here’s the scoop on dustpans: They are a cleaning utensil — also called a lifter — that allows you to scoop things up.) But, even after the scooping and lifting, I knew there were still remnants, so I bowed on my knees for better retrieval of the remaining slivers. That is when my tears began to flow.
Why did this have to happen? I had been so careless. I was missing my dish already. What an unseemly demise. I didn’t even remember life without it. It had been important to me — and I had carelessly let it go.
Sigh… it was still broken. But, while on my knees was when I knew this column was coming to fruition. There are times in our lives that things get broken — hearts, homes, promises, expectations, relationships…. just to name a few.
We feel we are watching it happen in slow motion, but we are unable to stop it. What used to be ‘whole’ can crash into pieces that can hurt us. No rewind capabilities. Irreparable. Smashed to smithereens. We are not prepared for it. We use our weapon — dustpans or ‘lifters’ in our lives — but ultimately, we end up on our knees — still broken — and cry out to God.
Even with Super Glue, we sometimes cannot repair or restore a broken object to a point of it being useful again.
But… the good news is that with our Super God, we can get R & R — repair and restoration — of anything that is broken in our lives.
Oddly enough, I now think breaking that dish was worth it — because I began to realize just how beautifully God says, “Whoosh!” and all the broken pieces fly back together.
2 Corinthians 5:18 — And all things are of God, who restores us…
All things means all things.
That’s good stuff. I mean… God stuff.

Ann is a speaker and teacher. Contact her at annfarabee@gmail.com or http://annfarabee.com