When the Glass Breaks…

The dining room space exploded with sound.

These were not melodious, glorious, joyous tunes, however.


Not this time.

When I rose from the dining room table to serve Jake another bowl of soup, somehow, someway, as I turned from my chair, my hip made contact with the display table behind me. My hip bump caused the large, framed piece of art on the table to lurch forward into the stunning array of hurricane glass candle holders.

I lunged for the art piece to prevent it from falling completely forward. Alas, this decision brought consequences. I wasn’t fast enough to take hold of the beautiful glasswork. The candle holders fell to the floor. As each glass piece cascaded to the floor, each set off impressive, but horrific firework explosions of shattering glass.

As I looked down and surveyed the catastrophic scene, my heart was wrecked.

This wasn’t our house.

This wasn’t our dining room.

These weren’t our hurricane glass candle holders.

And this wasn’t the first time I had made a huge mess of things because of my clumsiness.

Our hosts were incredibly gracious. As I stood in shock, they jumped into action – sweeping up and cleaning up every large and small, sparkly, shiny remnant.

I vowed to replace what I destroyed. Thankfully, I can. The hurricane glass candle holders are still available in a local establishment. That’s a relief.

Yet, I still feel terrible.

Living this missionary life brings all kinds of different experiences – like living in someone else’s home for extended periods of time while we are in the US. Our family does our best to honor our hosts and take care of their homes as if each place were our own. So, I’m saddened that my lack of awareness and clumsiness sent this home into disarray for a time.

Jake observed the whole ordeal while he waited for his second bowl of soup. Jake doesn’t want me breaking any more glass.

“Be careful, Mom. Don’t break any more stuff. You shouldn’t do that.”

Thanks, Jake. I can always depend upon my autistic-keep-everything-in-order son to help keep me in line and in order. 😊

So, where I am going with this post? What’s my point?

As we know, it’s a new year.

It’s a new decade in fact.

I’d like to tell Jake that I will be careful and that I won’t break anymore stuff. But, this would be an empty, I-won’t-be-able-to-keep-that promise.

No matter how many times I attempt to be careful, conscientious, cautious, deliberate and prudent with my words and actions, mistakes will happen.

I am not perfect.

I will never be perfect.

My life shows evidence of spilt milk, shattered glass, fractured bones, dented fenders, torn material, broken tree limbs, damaged furniture, plenty of scars, hurt feelings, and lots of other broken stuff. But, I’m still here. I’m still standing. I’m still learning. I’m still growing. I’m still living.

And I’m still trying.

And I’m still trusting my God to lead me forward into this life He’s given me – today, tomorrow, into the new year, and into the new decade.

His word promises:

For I am the Lord your God
who takes hold of your right hand
and says to you,

Do not fear;
I will help you.

New International Version, Isaiah 41:13

Isn’t that what I need most in my life – even when I break stuff, make mistakes, and fail? I need to know that my God will help me with my brokenness, my failures, my fears, and whatever else troubles me. His word says He’ll take hold of my hand and help me.

Isn’t this a comforting, heart-lifting promise?

Especially when we are in the middle of the pressure-bomb of life that explodes into a million pieces and leaves us shattered?

Even then, God’s promise is firm and true.

For I am the Lord your God
who takes hold of your right hand
and says to you,

Do not fear;
I will help you.

It is my prayer that we experience this truth – especially when life just doesn’t go the way we expect it to – today or tomorrow.

Please receive this word:

Your Lord, your God will take hold of your right and help you. No matter what.

Ask him.

4 thoughts on “When the Glass Breaks…

  1. My heart heard nothing profound you had to say. I just ached for your experience. We have all been there at some time or another, and will again, but none the less, embarrassing, and just hard. Hard to be in someone else’s home, and even have normal things happen. I am sorry you can’t come home and just have your own private space. The stress alone of weeks not having this must be hard no matter how gracious others are. Hugs Heather! Your post today makes me….grateful..because I drop almost everything I pick up. I would be a miserable person as a house guest!

  2. HOO HOO. How I empathize with you. My husband realized early in our marriage that I was a “home wrecker” the admonision , “Slow down Shirley” was a common phrase. Your reminder of the “not perfect” life once again brought a wave of joy as I have only recently let go of the guilt and totally accepted the freedom of His Redemption. I still break things and put my foot in my mouth too often, but the relief of knowing I AM FORGIVEN. make it easier to face.

    1. Thank you, Shirley! Love you lots! ❤

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