A Broken Thing

I started reading a book that Kate had on the table yesterday – Ann Voskamp’s new book, ‘The Broken Way.’ I love the parts that tell about ‘The Farmer’ – her solid, dependable Dutch husband. (Like mine!) And I loved this part where he comes in and sees her afraid and vulnerable, gathers her in his arms and whispers softly to her: “You know – everything all across this farm says the same thing, right?” He waits till I let him look me in the eye, let him look into me and all this fracturing. “The seed breaks to give us the wheat. The soil breaks to give us the crop. The sky breaks to give us the rain, the wheat breaks to give us the bread. And the bread breaks to give us the feast. There was once even an alabaster jar that broke to give Him all the glory.” He looks right through the cracks of me. He smells of the barn and the dirt and the sky, and he’s carrying something of the maple trees at the edge of the woods – carrying old light. he says it slowly, like he means it: “Never be afraid of being a broken thing.”