Someone at w*rk today was playing a country song:
I've got a heart like a truck
It's been dragged through the mud
I said, "Hmm... A heart like a truck... It's a bit battered, got a few dents in it. I've been letting maintenance slide for a few years and it runs a little rough. But it still gets where it needs to go. It might get bogged down sometimes, but eventually it'll pull itself out."
What would you say your heart is like?
Is it like an iceberg? People think it's cold as ice, but they only see a tenth of it that is showing.
Is it like a kitchen? It exists to take care of people and give them what they need.
Is it like a private museum? Closed to the public because they would track mud on the carpet.
It's kind of funny how life distracts us... After reading the OP, I realized I hadn't really thought about the state of my heart in a very long time, so thanks, Lynx, for this opportunity.
I would have to describe my heart with two illustrations.
You know the old saying that a cow has 4 stomachs? Apparently its just one whole stomach but has 4 different compartments.
My heart is a lot like that. One part for silly, one part for sad, one part for storage, and one part for sorting and contemplating.
The people around me will likely get a combination of all 4 parts, sometimes going all at once, or sometimes one will take dominance and flip to something else without warning. Somehow, I've convinced a few people I'm still somewhat sane enough to keep around, lol.
The other image I have of my heart is a piece of stained glass. Like most people, I've gone through things that jave completely shattered my heart to the ground. If you had asked me about my heart back then, I would have pointed to a pile of broken glass on the cement and said, "Yup, there you go -- that about sums it up."
But I've come to learn over time that this is one of the amazing things about God. He picks up the shards and fragments from the ground and puts them back into the place and order that He designates. He colors each piece with something unique from every experience you've been through. He also knows the order of which pieces need to be put back first, and when. Other people, even well-meaning, may push and pull us, trying to put back piece #14 when God says there are 13 other pieces that need to be put back first before even addressing that one. And before you know it, God is soldering together a unique masterpiece out of all the broken pieces of your heart.
However, this is a lifelong process. How much of my heart is put together? I'm not sure, and I don't know what God's answer would be. But I do know that my heart was dust and ashes, and while it's taken many, many years, every now and then, I catch a glimpse of the pieces He's putting back together.
There are still holes. And some places have temporary patches or X's put in where construction is still planned or in progress. It won't be finished in this lifetime.
But one thing I am thankful for is that I no longer feel nearly as much like that broken pile of glass on the floor. And even though I still have vulnerable spots, I'm glad that it helps me relate to other people's broken spots, and hopefully, helps them relate more to what it's like when God gets a hold of our brokenness.
Praise be to God, and I hope you find Him doing the same for you (everyone out there.)
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