Shattered Heart

"Son, what have u done?!! That was a very special vase your mother had...her mother gave her that vase. Now it lies shattered on the floor in a million pieces.
We will sweep it up so noone gets cut on it. You need to tell your mother. I'm not mad but it just meant alot to her. And it's irreplaceable."
That moment I remember from my childhood. As a young boy, I felt so devestated. The shatter pieces of that beautiful vases that once held roses.
Roses that my dad had bought my mother for valentine's days, birthdays. and anniversaries.No glue, tape or anything could put that beautiful,antique vase back together.
It may have held roses my grandfather had given in love to my grandmother, too. Now it lay shattered with pieces thrown everywhere.
Nervously, I swept with the broom. I held big pieces in my hand and looked. Wondering how many shelves had this vase sit on.
Each big piece still had the shape
of a red rose pedal showing through. And I sobbed holding the shattered piece in my little hands. I thought I would have no vase to put my flowers in one day.
I recall that passing memory. I've been shattered like I've never been before.
 The life I knew lies in a thousand pieces on the floor.Everyone wants to tell me what to do or how to feel.
 And words fall short in times like these. This world has drove me to my knees.
 I believe I'm never gonna get back to the person that I used to be.
"Heart... beat again." Nothing.
 I close my eyes and breathe in.
 Shadows fall and darken the way.
I want to leave the darkness. I want to feel the sun.

God in these moments doesn't allow me complete relief. But always speaks like a cool drink.

" Let every heartbreak
 And every scar
 Be a picture that reminds you
 Who has carried you this far
 'Cause love sees farther than you ever could
 In this moment heaven's working
 Everything for your good."

"But God everyone expects me to hold it all together.
Everybody needs me strong.
You don't understand, Father, life has hit me out of nowhere
and barely left me holding on.
I'm tired of fighting.
God, I'm on my knees and answers seem so far away.
I feel so alone. My whole world's falling apart."

I remember my dad picking me up from sobbing. He lifted me up to his powerful shoulders. I laid my head on his broad chest. His strong arms embraced and just held me.
My little heart beating so frantically. It would stop at times, it seemed. But I could hear the calm beating of his heart. He stroked my head.
Running his hand through my hair, stroking it. Trying to calm his child. Allowing me to cry my heart out. Until my heart started to beat in time with his.
My heart and
his heart seemed to beat together as one. It felt as if my heart that had been beating so frantically and had stopped, now beat in a calm steady rythem
with his.
He started to set me down. "No, dad, please, just hold me just a little while longer."
"Always."
I never wanted him to let go that day. Oh, the peace to a heart to just be held.

"God, do you love me?"I asked.
He whispered to my heart.
"If you keep your eyes on the storms of this life,
You'll wonder if I still love you. Look to my cross. Keep your eyes on me there.
And you'll always know I have and I always will love you still.
Not one of your tears is wasted. I've held each one that your heart has shed. Before life made your heart cold and dead, I formed it. I was there to start the
first beat in your mother's womb. And I will be here when your ready to start it beating again.
In time, you'll understand. Ashes is all you feel is left of your heart once life has scorched it.
But I'm painting beauty with the ashes. And the masterpiece will be done in time.
Your life and heart have always been in My hands."


So I hold shattered pieces of my heart...and know that He restores life to the dead. And causes the shattered hearts of the dead to live again.
And His promises are never broken or unfaithful. He finishes what he started. And as I hold a piece of a cold, dead shattered heart; just as I held the piece of the
broken vase as a boy and sobbed...tears stream down my face now as I look at the scars and heartbreaks.
Those words try to breathe life into my shattered heart.

And as my soul searching continues in this life...I lift my hands. I lift my eyes in the storm where I find myself. God says, "I hold your heart. I am the God who
won't let go. Rest. Rest in the arms that will not let you go."

So I place my shattered heart into the hands of God. Cause God is the Master Designer and He can build out of the most shattered heart...something Beautiful.
"Lord, heal my heart."
"The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit."-Psalm 34:18
by
Lance Gargus

This Too Shall Pass

“For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen,since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.”
2 Corinthian 4: 17-18

"And once the storm is over, you won’t remember how you made it through, how you managed to survive. You won’t even be sure, whether the storm is really over. But one thing is certain. When you come out of the storm, you won’t be the same person who walked in. That’s what this storm’s all about.”
― Haruki Murakami

One day Solomon decided to humble Benaiah ben Yehoyada, his most trusted minister. He said to him, "Benaiah, there is a certain ring that I want you to bring to me. I wish to wear it for the Sukkot festival, which gives you six months to find it."
"If it exists anywhere on earth, your majesty," replied Benaiah, "I will find it and bring it to you, but what makes the ring so special?"
"It has special powers," answered the king. "If a happy man looks at it, he becomes sad, and if a sad man looks at it, he becomes happy." Solomon knew that no such ring existed in the world, but he wished to give his minister some added humility.
Spring passed and then summer, and still Benaiah had no idea where he could find the ring. On the day before Sukkot, he decided to take a walk in one of the poorest quarters of Jerusalem. He passed by a merchant who had begun to set out the day's wares on a shabby carpet. "Have you by any chance heard of a special ring that makes the happy wearer forget his joy and the broken-hearted wearer forget his sorrows?" asked Benaiah.
He watched the elderly man take a plain gold ring from his carpet and engrave something on it. When Benaiah read the words on the ring, his face broke out in a wide smile.
That night the entire city welcomed in the holiday of Sukkot with great festivity. "Well, my friend," said King Solomon, "have you found what I sent you after?" All the ministers laughed and Solomon himself smiled.
To everyone's surprise, Benaiah held up a small gold ring and declared, "Here it is, your majesty!" As soon as Solomon read the inscription, the smile vanished from his face. The jeweler had written three Hebrew letters on the gold band: Gimel, Zayin, Yud, which begin the words "Gam zeh ya'avor - This too shall pass."
At that moment Solomon realized that all his wisdom and fabulous wealth and tremendous power were but fleeting things, for one day he would be nothing but dust.

One early reference comes from the Old English poem, Deor  (c. AD 10th century). In the poem, the ex-minstrel Deor, laments recently losing his position of poet to the king. In his lament, he compares himself to a number of heroes from Anglo-Saxon folklore who experiences some trouble or other, always ending with the saying  “Þæs ofereode, þisses swa mæg!”—which means something like “that was overcome, this may also be” or “that passed, so too may this.”

My soul searching lead me to this ancient parable. The Persians spoke of this king, so wise was Solomon. But even he, like us, is stopped in our tracks by something so profound. I continue my journey, as I seek out the giver of all Truths. I ponder recent events in my life. We want the trouble times to pass and the good days also pass. But I feel the words of reassurance spoken hold true to us now as then. And the shadows will pass in time. But until then, I continue on with the soul searching of my life...... 

by
Lance Gargus

Masquerade

Entering the church I wonder if I am the only one that feels out of place, like I don't belong. Times like this I feel so small cause everyone else seems to have it all together. So I swallow down my self doubt, while tucking it all away, to play my part again. Hoping they will see me, the way I see them.

The stage is set and the masquerade begins. The performance is so convincing, and we know all the words by heart. We sing our hymns, listen to the preacher, and talk briefly to each other. Do we really look into each other's eyes or do we just look away?

Do I dare to let you see, the truth behind who I really am or do I wait to I get home to fall apart?

What would you do? Would your arms be open or would you walk away from me? What would make you stay? Would the love of Jesus make you stay?

We smile to hide our pain, while building up walls around our weakness. We have in essence become mannequins, made of plastic in a plastic building with a plastic steeple on top.

We all fail, we all fall down, we all are broken goods, yet we put on our masks.

We play the part to the hilt. Shielding ourselves from each other. We all really want to cry. We all want to fall down at the altar. We all want a sympathetic ear. We all want an understanding shoulder of a brother or sister to lean on. We all want our Father to see how much his children love each other.

Maybe then we can close the curtain on our masquerade.

Finally, be ye all of one mind, having compassion one of another, love as brethren, be pitiful, be courteous:
1 Peter 3:8

We must feel toward our people as a father toward his children; yea, the most tender love of a mother must not surpass ours.
Richard Baxter

by

Lance Gargus