     This week I did something I don't ever recall having done before and if I have, I've forgotten about it. As I walked from our pantry to the kitchen, the bowl I was carrying slipped from my hands, hit the edge of the counter, flew for awhile then dropped to the floor and shattered into approximately one million pieces. (Well, maybe not quite that many). I was stunned and momentarily motionless and speechless.
         Although it was only an empty Corelle soup bowl, the sound that resulted was closer to that of an explosion. Pieces, large and small, jetted in every direction. Tiny white shards of glass snowed upon the wooden floor in the adjoining living room. I grabbed the broom and dustpan. That's when my husband came to see what was going on.
         I'd like to say that the time and effort we put into retrieving each fragment of that dish proved to be totally successful but that wasn't true. Throughout that day and the next we continued to spot miniscule but razor sharp reminders of what happened within the matter of a heartbeat.
         As I've thought about this I was reminded of the Psalmist David's account of his own pain: "I am like a broken vessel…."(Psalm 31:12).  Nor did David's son, Solomon, escape grief and pain. "The spirit of a man will sustain him in sickness, but who can bear a broken spirit?" (Proverbs 18:14).
         Thankfully that isn't the end of David's story; as he looked to God for strength, he found restoration and recovery. "He heals the broken-hearted and binds up their wounds." (Psalm 147:3).
         If David found this to be true then so can we! Unlike my blue and white bowl which can never be reconstructed, we can find a place of healing and wholeness when life leaves us shattered and scattered.Â
