A Different Way In

I don't like it when things break. Especially my things. (I know--so shocking and unique, right?) So of course I wasn't happy when the screen door fell apart last summer. We tried fixing it to no avail. In the end, Calli got the doggie door she'd always wanted.

Several months and snow storms later, I came upon this screen door scene.



And of course I had to make a metaphor out of it.

Even on a good day, in a good year, my life is far more broken than buttoned up. If not me, then it's someone I love. We fist bump the fragile peace only to find ourselves bloody knuckled, to learn that if we break it, we buy it. And we are too spent. So much seems irreparable.

But what if the breaking is part of a bigger picture? What if the tearing is part of the design? I'm not a fan of the cliche about closed doors and open windows, but I could get on board with an adage that incorporates a torn porch door. I could nod my head to the story where a tattered, screwed up screen--the one we wrecked with our own careless hands-- becomes the way in to where we're supposed to be.

Sometimes I look back and see the places I've squeezed through. I see how He's repurposed my junk pile into a step stool. And I shake my head in wonder. Because when He said He works "all things together for good", he really meant all.

::

Linked to the Tuesdays Unwrapped community, hosted by the lovely Emily, to give thanks for a God who turns brokenness into beauty, who meets me in my faithless detours again and again to make my way straight.