by Annie Edwards
It was Monday and I was out of apples. I always keep a glass bowl of fruit on our counter; I think it looks beautiful. But on this particular week, it was only Monday and the apples were gone.
Jamus (my husband) walked in from work and I am sure he saw it on my face– the disappointment of the day and brokenness of spirit. Head planted deep in a tear-soaked pillow, I went through the bullet list of how nothing had gone right that day. Then, after wallowing through the extensive list I did “ugly cry” and exclaimed, “and if that’s not enough, it’s Monday and we are already out of apples!”
What should we do when it’s Monday and we are already out of apples (or out of patience, out of love, out of enthusiasm, out of energy, out of toilet paper, or whatever else it might be)?
My feet hit the floor heavy after a late night of my toddler partying. I was tired of seeing that massive boulder of dirty clothes– didn’t I just wash those? Seriously, how did this happen? I had nothing to show for my work. I worked so hard to clean the house, but it somehow looks like it vomited on itself at the end of the day. I exercise and eat healthy, but I cannot seem to get the cellulite of my thighs. My children were annoying me, and to be honest, I just did not like them very much. As a result, overwhelming guilt came over me. I should be able to keep a clean house and love my children, and I should be able to do so perfectly– all the time.
Then there is the boredom. I’m tired of eating peanut butter sandwiches every day, watching the same cartoons, and tackling the same arguments with the kids. I knew I actually had every reason to be thankful, but I looked at the empty glass bowl on the counter and it was as if it was mocking me, telling me that I am an empty and a fruitless Christian.
Redeeming Our Brokenness
I felt broken just like the injured bird on our driveway yesterday. “Poor bird!” James screamed. “Can we help it Mommy?” he begged. The bird looked as if it had crashed into a window and broken his neck. It was probably the neighbor’s windows (they actually use glass cleaner). The bird’s neck was stuck in a sideways position and frantically wobbled around broken and helpless.
Like that bird, we were not meant to be broken. When Adam and Eve took the fruit and ate of it, brokenness began. We see signs of the curse every day: children die, cancer grows in our bodies, depression attacks, marriages crumble, victims are exploited in sex trafficking; there’s infertility, sadness, war, and hatred.
We spend our days looking for ways to be full, but apart from Christ, we will stand (or lie) there broken. However, while I feel broken, I know that my feelings lie to me.
I read in Isaiah 53 that Christ “was wounded for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace and with his stripes we are healed.” In Christ, I am healed. I am a new creation. It is no longer I who lives, but Christ who lives in me. He was broken (literally) so that I could become beautiful to God. He covers all my ugly and broken mess from yesterday, today, and tomorrow.
My broken, pathetic Monday is covered by Jesus’ broken body and blood.
According to Colossians 2, “He has delivered us from the dominion of darkness and transferred us to the kingdom of his beloved Son.” When I start living for my kingdom here on this earth, I realize that things broken. I start to feel broken because I am called to another kingdom– his kingdom. I cannot make this earthly kingdom work to satisfy me.
We must be emptied before we can be filled. Some days, our little temporary kingdoms must be shattered so that God can remind us that a greater kingdom is coming. Some days we have to come to the end of ourselves before we’ll realize we must look to Christ. We need to be reminded that we are jars made out of clay and our weaknesses ultimately show his glory.
Whether it’s Monday or Saturday, and whether there are 7 apples or no apples, Jesus is still King and he’s still on the throne– and he’s still enough.
ABOUT THE WRITER
Annie Edwards is a pastor’s wife and mother of 3 young children. She enjoys random dance parties in the kitchen and has a heart to disciple women. Annie and her family reside in Owensboro, Kentucky. Follow Annie on Twitter and her blog Miss America Reject.