I dropped my favorite large cooking spoon today, and the ceramic handle broke. I started to throw it away, but realized later that I can simply superglue the broken piece on. It’s completely salvageable, though it will always have a missing piece that chipped of. It occurred to me tonight that I’m like that spoon.
I was broken at a very young age. A victim of sexual abuse as a pre-schooler, at the hands of an uncle, I seem to be even more deeply affected by the rejection of my mother. She was a delightful person and a lot of fun to be around, but she and I couldn’t be more different. I was like one of those barn animals that the mother rejects and someone else has to take care of it.
Thank the good Lord for the fact that my dad was an absolutely amazing person and perhaps the world’s best dad. He died at the age of 45, and I still miss him like crazy.
The reason I’m thinking about how broken I am is because I watched a movie today called “A Walk to Remember.” There’s a teenager in the movie who lives a devout, sincere life. She knows she is loved and is confident in herself in a way that I haven’t been since my very young days, when I was a real toot (in a good way). The character is also confident in God.
Watching the show simply reminded me that I hope someday to have that self-assurance that comes not from pride but from knowing with full assurance that I am as worthy of being loved as everyone else. I’m God-confident but not as self-confident as I know I’d be if that chip wasn’t missing.