I know the way the heart squeezes, causing blood to push life through. I know the way air is breathed in and love is breathed out but I don't know this and this is what I want to know. What I search in vain to find.
I don't know.
Once pieces of the heart, pieces of love, have been broken off, does the healing ever cause new growth? Allowing those broken, missing pieces to regenerate . . . self-repair?
I think this missing piece . . . pieces of brokenness are not meant to be fixed, repaired, or replaced.
I think the brokenness is meant to stay. A reminder that I am broken, that no matter the searching and all those attempts at the self-fixing, I am broken.
The ragged edges, the reminder of the loss are only made smooth when the Pierced Hand covers and soothes.
That Hand doesn't regenerate or fix or replace. That Hand covers it all and by the covering performs the healing.
I think those missing pieces remain, like the thorn in Paul's side, to remind that we are only whole by that broken, Pierced Hand.
It takes The Broken to mend the breaking. Not to fix, repair, or replace but to remind that we are loved. We are loved and in the loving made whole. And this is beautiful.
"Embrace every pain as a peeling away of something ~ to make me know it in new ways, that He is enough."