Broken or Human?

These past few months have been soul stretching in a lot of ways. On top of my father’s deterioration, there have been other family worries, plus I’m raising two teenage daughters. That alone would drive most people to drink. Or in my case, Xanax. But I’ve also been feeling pretty lousy physically-allergies, migraines, night sweats, low immune response, tired, but also dealing with insomnia. And to top it off, my mood swings have been more like a ride at Universal Studios. I wasn’t this emotional as a teenager. But I knew it wasn’t my MDD acting up. I just felt physically broken. I know I turned 50, but did everything have to stop working all at once? I felt like this bowl. Just pieces. No glue in sight. And running on fumes. Then I saw a picture of a mended bowl, using Kintsugi, a Japanese method of fixing broken pottery using resin and gold. There is no effort made to hide the breakage. The fractures are joined together not by invisible glue, but instead the rejoining of the pieces is clearly outlined, not with just glue, but with gold.

Being Real

When friends first started to tell me they loved my “real-ness” or my authenticity, I was actually puzzled. Doesn’t everyone say what they think and share their struggles? I was probably just so used to my every tiny flaw being examined by the Asian Women’s Association that it never occurred to me that others didn’t feel okay about sharing their imperfect -ness. Actually me, prepping to meet the matchmaker. Not really. My mom used to tell me I would never get married “unless you fix…..!”

My mother and/or grandmother, depending on the day. “Speaking without permission…not good for bearing sons…(both true, btw, I tend to speak out of turn and had only one son and three daughters. Also, we are on granddaughter #3 in September)…slicing cucumbers wrong, unteachable, too stubborn (how could I not be what I prefer to call tenacious? My mother and grandmother collectively survived 3 wars?!)…needs to practice the violin more. Okay, in all honesty, they were both super skinny. This lady is like seven of them. But otherwise…🙄🥢Also, this was the longest caption ever.

So, I’m used to being direct and real. But my life was getting too real for even me. I reached into my cold Asian heart and pulled out the stoicism. There was a lot of “I’m fine”. “Good! How are you!” Because seriously, how can I unload all of this STUFF on anyone when I feel like it’s breaking me to just deal with it? I like to tell my husband I just put it in a kimchi pot and bury it in the field.

But I had been working in therapy and on my own to actually talk about my feelings. To sit with them. To feel them. To allow myself to not just be open with my struggles but to be OKAY with them. That’s super hard for a recovering perfectionist.

Broken Things To Mend

In a conference talk for our church, found here, Elder Jeffrey R. Holland shares a poem called Broken Things To Mend. It talks of all the people in the village bringing things to the Carpenter to mend. And how He can mend even our broken hearts.

I heard Elder Holland speak at a much smaller church meeting about 11 years ago. You can read about that experience here. One of the things that he said that night was that God loves broken things. He loves broken ground so He can plant seeds; broken seeds so they will sprout; broken skies to give rain; broken hearts to accept His Son and His will.I’ve realized over this past few months that I’m struggling only because I’m fighting the Carpenter. He accepts my brokenness. He even requires it. And then He not only makes me whole, but like the Kintsugi process, makes me more beautiful than before. He is not ashamed of my weaknesses, but will “give unto [me] beauty for ashes”. (Isaiah 61:3) He can use my flaws and cracks to show others His grace in my life. That feeling of need and weakness is necessary–“Nevertheless, the Lord God showeth us our weakness that we may know that it is by his grace, and his great condescensions unto the children of men, that we have power to do these things.” (Jacob 4:7)

I know life is always going to have ups and downs. Things have gotten much better lately. Figuring out I was starting to go through menopause and working with my nurse practitioner has been a HUGE help. So has getting my parents into a smaller place. I’m starting to sleep better, feel better, and hallelujah the night sweats are in abeyance at the moment. Plus, how can I complain with a trip to Hawaii literally days away and then a sweet new granddaughter on the horizon? I know I will have my broken times, but I am slowly learning to embrace them, to love and be kind to myself, and to remember that God loves broken things.

How do you deal with your broken times?