Broken?

 I'm a sucker for a happy ending. I love when you get to the part where they say ..."And they all lived happily ever after". The heart warming, feel good conclusion -  where all the loose ends are neatly tied up, you experience all the big emotions, and then you're left feeling, well...happy. 

Whether it's a book, a movie or real life, I like to quickly get to the part where everything will be okay. I've been known to skip a few pages (or even a few chapters) of a book just so I can be in that happy place faster. And now that almost everything we watch on TV can be streamed, it's so much easier to do. I can fast forward through the boring parts, the seemingly irrelevant parts, the sad, the tense, the tragic or the scary parts.

 Growing up watching TV in the 1970's, the fast forward option was not available. We would have to sit through an entire show. Beginning, middle and end. I distinctly remember crying through the sad parts of  movies such as Bambi and Dumbo. And I always covered my eyes during the scary parts of Scooby Doo. (well, I found it scary)!

If only we could fast forward through some of the hard seasons of life. 

I'm in the middle of a hard season right now. I call it the 'messy middle'. It's messy because it's unpredictable, it's uncertain and very uncomfortable. It's messy because despite all my good intentions,  and trying hard to maintain a positive attitude, I still find myself swinging like a pendulum, between memories of the old Elaine, BC (before crisis), and accepting the new Elaine, AD (after devastation). Two and a half years later,  I still feel very much devastated by this illness. I still feel broken.

But I believe beauty can exist in brokenness. 

I suppose that's one of the reasons why I've always loved mosaics. I find it fascinating, that thousands and thousands of broken pieces can be carefully crafted together to recreate something beautiful

A table top mosaic using broken CD's.

The finished product.

Nice analogy Elaine, but what about real life?

To find beauty from brokenness in real life, I need look no further than the life of Joni Eareckson Tada. Joni was just 17 years old , when in 1967 she dived head first into the shallow waters of Chesapeake Bay. She hit the bottom and broke her neck. Instantly she was paralyzed from the shoulders down and became a quadriplegic. 

Joni has been in a wheelchair for decades. She's now an accomplished author, inspirational speaker, singer, radio host and advocate for disability, with her organization Joni And Friends. She is also an extraordinary artist: painting by mouth.

After her diving accident, Joni fell into a deep depression and desperately wanted to end her life. But without the use of her hands, she had no way of acting out her suicidal thoughts. Joni even asked her family and friends to help her to die. They of course refused. Their deep Christian faith would not allow them to even consider that. But they prayed earnestly for her. Every day. Eventually, her depression started to lift and she entered rehabilitation. While there, she learned to write her name by holding a pen in her mouth. Then one day someone handed her a paintbrush...

Her early days.

Her painting, 'Light In The Forest'.

Years later, still painting.

Joni Eareckson Tada is the essence of beauty coming from a place of brokenness.  Her tragedy could have left her wallowing in self pity, but instead she transcended the limits of her wheelchair and is living proof that a broken neck doesn't always signify a broken life. She is an inspiration to both the disabled and able bodied community alike.

I consider myself fortunate not have an overwhelming physical disability like Joni. My disability is invisible. When you live with an invisible disability, it is often hard for others to see or understand the many limitations that come with a chronic vestibular disorder. But trust me - they are very much there. My condition does not confine me to a wheelchair, but there are many days when the debilitating symptoms keep me confined to my bed. And it is these symptoms that can often lead to a  feeling of brokenness.

 As much as I would like to fast forward through the 'messy middle' of my life story, I know that isn't possible. I live in the present, not the future. However, recently I'm starting to see that the heart of my story is in the middle. It's in the hardships, the adversity and the trials. It's in the daily difficulties and challenges that I must overcome. It's here in these dark places, that the seeds of  inner strength are planted, take root and begin to grow.

So, how do I end this post? I can't really finish by saying..."and she lived happily every after". That chapter of the story is still being written. So maybe I'll just say this: 'Although she was broken by her illness, she was not broken beyond repair. She picked up the pieces of her shattered life and began to turn her mess, into a message. And it is a message of hope. Hope that is created from brokenness. Every day she is fashioning those pieces into her own unique ever after. And yes, I'm quite sure some of it will be very happy'.

My new favourite mosaic...