Soul Fractures | Breaking & Blessing

Every time a child is born, there is another birth. And a death.

The mother.

My first daughter was breech. She was brought into the world through the slice of a knife. Through a knife piercing into the mother that brought her into the world.

There's something about giving birth. 

In our lives, we're so private. So hidden. Our deep dark secrets tucked neatly away inside. We seek privacy, the solace of being unknown.

But somewhere there's an ache.

A longing. A longing to be seen and known... more deeply.

The delivery room is a wild place. Not only is your body breaking, but suddenly it's also on full display—all the parts and pieces of you that you've always kept quietly concealed—on display for the world.

Not in a beautiful way, but in a messy, raw, and real way.

And I wonder, if in that moment, your soul takes note. Remembers. Remembers what it always was--messy, raw, real... and magical.

Then there's those days... the day when you take your sweet new baby home. And you're so tired you forget your first name. Then when you remember your name you realize something much deeper...

You've forgotten who you ARE.

And you go on the search to find yourself. Only to discover, that "you", the old you, is gone. And the search becomes to find the new you. The reborn you. The one with depth, and wisdom, and magic.

And as you parent your child, that child who is a slice of your heart running around outside of you... you also begin to parent something else. You. This new, broken and beautiful you, begins to grow, to flourish, to come to life.

Raw, vulnerable, and overflowing with love.

What if that's the metaphor of broken vessels?

What if that's Christ on the cross?

Broken, and bleeding. Messy and raw and real. Pouring out His blood, His love, for the healing of the nations? ❤️