Six Broken Crayons

I was going through my notebook where I keep all my writing and I was reminded of this piece that I wrote in November of 2015. I wanted to share it with you all. :)

Six Broken Crayons

Some things break easily: pencil lead, dollar store toys, crisp green beans out of the garden, hair ties, and trust.

Some things are harder to break: bones, wooden boards, and pride.

I have broken all of these, one time or another.

Today in counseling, I broke six crayons.

After holding one of my roommate's hands all the way across the student center, we climbed up the stairs to the Center for Student Success, holding onto each other. After lots of deep breaths, I walked in, knowing what was coming.

My therapist said, "What do you think Thanksgiving will be like?" and I sighed and said, "I can't stop shaking, can I please color?" When I started to color, I couldn't stop. She asked me to start talking out loud about whatever I was thinking. Usually, my thoughts are well-organized and I can communicate well. Today, I just stared at my crayon and colored.

Snap.

I picked up another crayon, wordlessly, and kept coloring. I pressed hard, trying to get out all of the fear and anxiety onto the paper. Usually that's what writing is for me, except lately I can't pound the keys hard enough.

After a few minutes, she asked what I was thinking about coloring. I realized that as I looked down, the colors of my broken crayons blending together, I was trying to fill all the blank spaces on the paper. I was taking all of the broken lines and trying to pull them together to form a completed picture. The colors mixed together, all intertwining each other, trying to fill each other's spaces. But no matter how hard I colored, I couldn't get all of the white off the page. There were still little specks of white everywhere.

For the past few months, I have been trying to fill my blank space and pull my lines together. Broken things hurt just so much. I had to step back recently and be reminded that it isn't my job to fix the things broken beyond repair. It never was.

As I was walking to class the other day, the Lord whispered in my Spirit on a few separate occasions "My power is made perfect in your weakness" (2 Corinthians 12:9). Then I remembered that broken is not the worst thing I could be.

I'm reminded of the promise of Revelation 21:5--"He who was seated on the throne said, 'I am making everything new!'" And as if God knew that on November 23, 2015, Mallory Marie Bitterman would be silently asking "can this be trusted?" the verse continues..."Then he said, 'Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true.'" Oh.

"It’s turning thunder into grace,
knowing sometimes the break in your heart
is like the hole in the flute.

Sometimes it’s the place
where the music comes through." -Andrea Gibson