Posted by: JennyRain | July 28, 2009

Oops, I did it again!

I break things.

This propensity to provoke catastrophes baffles my husband.

My disasters begin upon the eruption of muffled yelps and cacophonous melodies. This most often occurs between the hours of six and seven a.m. As my husband comes running to the sound of the alarm, I am often found standing and shouting at said-broken-device while [water, smoke, fill-in-the-blank-item] pours out/drips out/shoots out of it. It does not occur to me to turn said-broken-device off.


“Seven years that shower-head has functioned fantastically. Less than two months in the house and you have broken it?” he responds to this morning’s “rearrangement” of the shower-head from the shower wall to the bathroom floor.

“I don’t understand. I have used the sink-sprayer for over seven-and-a-half years without fail. How exactly did it break this morning?” says John the morning the kitchen-sink-sprayer’s head popped off without warning, shooting water throughout our kitchen.

“It’s just inevitable honey,” say I, “You married me!”

Most days he just walks away shaking his head. I am not sure he realized this tendancy for trouble was a part of the “I do’s” we said in May.

I wonder who fixed things before my husband came along?

If this proclivity to pull-to-pieces has pursued me persistently since birth, I wonder who followed me to fix the foibles of my formative years? It did not seem as if stuff was ever broken during my growing up years.

Thankfully, my dad and my step-dad are both very handy, so whatever was broken tended to be repaired quickly. Even mom knows her way around a tool-box and has been known to repair toilets, patch holes in the wall, darn holes in clothing, and re-paint wall scrapes. My family knows how to fix things and thankfully it appears as if my husband does too.

I like people who can fix things.

For a chronic-breaker, it is very comforting to have a fixer around! Reflecting on the “repair-men-and-women” in my life this morning, I found myself grateful for the Ultimate Repairer who has fixed and rescued more times than I probably even know.

Like a potter shaping and reshaping the clay, my God-Who-Repairs has used the bumps and bruises of my life, the broken and shattered pieces of my mistakes, choices, and efforts to mold my life into something that is becoming quite lovely. I have never felt “broken” as my Divine Fixer has worked His repair-magic, though I know that I have been.


This Gentle Fixer has somehow smoothed out the scrapes and scratches – many times – without me even knowing He is working. I have never felt as if my broken-ness disqualifies me from receiving His Love. Quite the opposite in fact, for it is as I have brought these shattered pieces to my Divine Healer, it is those places that I have seen Him most lovingly work out something glorious.

I am so grateful that though I break things, there is One who sticks those broken pieces back together again.

God made my life complete when I placed all the pieces before him. When I got my act together, he gave me a fresh start. Now I’m alert to God’s ways; I don’t take God for granted. Every day I review the ways he works; I try not to miss a trick. I feel put back together, and I’m watching my step. God rewrote the text of my life when I opened the book of my heart to his eyes. Psalm 18: 20-24

God, you are our Father. We’re the clay and you’re our potter: All of us are what you made us. Isaiah 64:8 (MSG)



  1. […] That crash you have heard from around the corner this week – its my colliding loyalties, its not me breaking things again. […]

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