Have you ever looked at the garbage in your life and felt sadness? Even deep sadness? Whether it’s the real, broken things at the curb, or the broken things in your heart that nobody sees, the pain is very real. Yeah, me, too. Which is why I was blown away by what happened to me this morning.

As I rounded the corner to finish my morning walk, I saw the garbage there. A pile of extra trash was left to the curb from our most recent garage clean. There I saw the thing that made me saddest- the kids’ blow up shark pool laying in a heap. I wanted to cry. Not because it had to go. That I knew. A slow leak in one of the sides had slowly turned to a giant one. It could be propped up on one side by a chair for a while, but to decreasing success. The kids were still enamored with it regardless, but even they knew it has seen its better days. So I wasn’t sad so much that it had to go.

I was sad that because I remembered the last time we were in it. (Yes, I was, too. ) I was excited to “enjoy the moment”, as I knew it might be “the last”. But I was shot, over- touched or over- stimulated. I was not amused by the freezing cold squirts and splashes of water that css as me my way, even when I asked for them not to. I tried so hard to have fun. I tried to let go and be as silly as possible. But I just couldn’t seem to. My brain was muddled, my heart made feeble attempts but was otherwise overloaded. And as hard as I tried I couldn’t shake it, and I felt terrible about that.

I’m not sure my kids could tell or not, but internal dialogue was thick with self disappointment. “Can’t you just squeal with joy? Can’t you just not care about it being cold or feeling uncomfortable? Cant you just get over your goosebumps, get over yourself??” I felt so defeated. So human. So “mom”. So tired, maybe. So pandemic/2020 spent maybe. Giving it my best shot but falling flat.

Now, at the memory of it, I felt as deflated as the shark pool now sat by the curb. Like a failure of my own doing, lying there wrapped up in the trash at the curb.

Do you have any of those kind of memories? The “last ones“, the dropped passes, the “undone” things. The broken times and things that you can’t go back and fix??

Doesn’t everyone?

Then wait until what happened next. I kid you not, I remembered what I had seen at the beginning of my run. In the dark, propped up against a garbage can was a two and a half foot statue of Jesus. I couldn’t believe how unjust it felt seeing it there by the side if the road. Tossed out, set aside, left for garbage. I don’t love statues myself, but it just seemed wrong. I got really close to it and looked the statue Jesus in the eye. I considered if I should retrieve it? Save it?

“Don’t move it.” I heard inside my heart. The words were almost stern. The whole thing kind of made me uncomfortable, honestly. Do I left it there. I continued on with my run and I didn’t look back, except at the leaves that noisily followed me down the road. It’s okay, I told myself. Told the alive and real Jesus. “You’re still king of the universe.” He was unconcerned that the statue had been put by the curb.

I had put the thought of it out of my mind until I was there writing through my shark pool emotions. And then when I put two and two together – my trash and Jesus- I was overcome with emotion. I literally bawled.

He didn’t mind being in the trash today because he’s already been there, already IS there. He is in the trash, with my disappointments and my failures, with what I’ve broken or what life has broken for me. He’s right there. And He’s redeeming ALL THINGs.

Then I realized as I closed my eyes, that he wasn’t leaning against the garbage can. He was in front of the recycling. I laughed to myself. Of course! He is the ultimate “up-cycler”. He takes our broken things and he makes something better. He does not “fix“ everything here, in our homes, right now, they way we might like. But he redeems everything. It’s in his very nature. He makes all things NEW.

I won’t ever see that shark pool again. I won’t ever get those moments back to do them better. Those moments weren’t lost, and inspite of my limitations, I trust that something bigger and better than myself is working through my ordinary days. I don’t need to be perfect to have a perfect grace cover my days.

Same goes for your mistakes, your broken things, and your losses. They are being used to make something better going forward.

How do I know? I’ve had my share of brokenness, too. Child of divorce, loss, a miscarriage, all have touched my life, to name a few. God knows how to redeem all of it. I’ve seen him do it, and he still is doing it. That’s how God works. He takes our trash and He uses it to create a legacy of hope and eternal redemption. Your brokenness is not the end of the story. It’s just a beginning.
Let God be there with it. And let him do something with it. He’s not afraid or bothered by any of it, and you shouldn’t be either.

You might even call him Jesus: “The Patron Saint of our brokenness.” ❤️