Broken Pieces
Thursday, August 21st, 2008
As children bring their broken toys
with tears for us to mend,I brought my broken dreams to God,
because He was my Friend.But then, instead of leaving Him
in peace to work alone,
I hung around and tried to help
with ways that were my own.At last I snatched them back and cried,
“How can You be so slow?”“My child,” He said, “what could I do?
You never did let go.”
I saw this many, many, many years ago – and it has always stayed with me. The hardest thing to do in life, I think, is to learn to let go. Not to not care – but, to simply let go.
We get so used to being in control of things. We fiddle and we fuss and we tweak. When sometimes, like the artist at the easel, the best thing we can do is walk away. Why, I wonder, is that the hardest thing to do? You’d figure just stopping would be easier than continuing to fuss and tweak and fidget. Yet, it seems more difficult to just stop. Ironic, wouldn’t you say?








