Creative Writing

Everything

Broken Window Old Shutter Hut Glass Wood Damaged
“Broken Window,” Courtesy of Max Pixel

Over the years I let my heart fall into disrepair,
like an abandoned, dilapidated house.
The type that people throw stones at,
to break windows for sport.
It was a place condemned,
where my soul felt sorrow to reside.

I dreamed of going back so I could fix,
everything.
I would have cleared out weeds and cobwebs,
and fixed the shattered glass,
repaired the broken windows of my heart.
I would have stooped down,
and picked up each broken shard,
cleaned the smudged corners.

I would piece each fragment back together,
Like new. And this time I’d be less careless.
but I could not. The damage was done.
Regret and shame are not tools for repair.
Putting glass back together can cut deep.
He saw I could not, He heard me struggle.

So one day, He just did it for me.
He was able to because,
it was He who protected the shack’s frail frame,
through raging storms that life created.
He protected it also from myself,
when I stirred up tornadoes of wicked passions,
and hurricanes of selfish ambitions.
He kept it standing against impossible odds.

He knows each broken window.
He also knows the exact blueprint.
I had only lived in it and mistreated it.
But He built it, just as he had built everything.
It was He who stooped down,
and picked up the scattered pieces of my heart.

He fixed and repaired the dwelling,
that I so carelessly left in the open,
He built a solid foundation for it to rest on.
He picked up glass,
that others dashed with stones,
Not just others…
for He also witnessed me throwing stones as well.
He fixed it anyway, and entrusted it back into my care.

Would it not have been prudent of me,
if from the start I had placed,
my confidence in the one who never deceived me?
The one who built and planned beauty from the start?
I didn’t always.

He built me from dust and air,
commanded it to be so with His voice.
Still I doubted.
Still I did not hear.
Still I heard, and I did not listen.
But despite,
Still He took me back.

So He once had built me,
and then He rebuilt me,
He rebuilt me not to the original state,
but He went one step further.
He put in additions.
Strength, wisdom, peace, discernment.
From the hopeless debris I had counted as lost,
He repaired everything.

 

For more poetry and short stories by me please check out the creative writing archives here.

 

Featured Photo Attribution: “Broken Window,” By Max Pixel, CC0 Public Domain
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11 thoughts on “Everything

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