The Beauty of Brokenness

I love Mosaics. I love to look at each tiny little piece of broken tile, and try to see it first as separate from the whole, as a fraction of the thing it once was. Did it used to have a life of its own, maybe as a vase or a plate, before it met its shattering fate and went on to become a vital component of a work of art? How did it break? Was it dropped, mishandled, intentionally destroyed for a larger purpose? I love that the pieces haven't been thrown away or wasted, but that the artist saw their remaining (or maybe enduring) value, and picked them up and said, "I can use you."

Mosaics are cool, because they are a neat little visual allegory of the way God works. Human beings, it seems, are even more prone to breaking than ceramic or clay. When I think of all the people who have most touched my life, whose words and deeds and legacies have helped to form and shape me, I am taken by the realization of something they all seem to have in common: they are, or were, decidedly imperfect, "broken on the wheels of living," as Brennan Manning has said. They are works in progress, turning their messes into messages and their tests into testimonies. Some of them are, indeed, a bit rough around the edges, and I suspect that their creator and mine is okay with that.

People who have been through a bit of fire, who have lived and learned, who have shed some lifeblood and come out the better for it, are effortlessly inspirational. They don't have to try too hard to be pithy or poignant or witty or wise, because the fact that they are still here speaks volumes before they ever have to say a word. They have a wide-eyed wonder at having endured, having been spared, that is contagious.They are the recovered addicts, the tenderhearted former bullies, the learning-disabled scholars, the wounded healers. Their lives speak, encouraging others to press on, to trust in the restorative hand and heart of God.

I remember an early concert given by the late Rich Mullins, the well-known Christian songwriter, wherein he reached for his guitar to play an acoustic ballad, and as he began to play, he started laughing and admitted, "This guitar is terminally out of tune, but I tend to think things are boring if they're really fine." The audience chuckled, because part of the appeal of Rich was that he was, in fact, quite rough around the edges. He didn't stop to tune the guitar; he started the song over again, still with the same out-of-tune instrument.

I like his style; Rich could appreciate the brokenness in both people and things, because he himself was admittedly broken. And maybe he was right; maybe pristine equals dull, and flawed equals interesting. And if that's the case, if all of us who are flawed and imperfect are more interesting and valuable for our brokenness, then maybe we can learn to embrace our shattered lives as a new kind of creation, like a mosaic. Maybe we can learn to be just a little bit more grateful for where we are, in light of where we were. Maybe we can remember that in our weakness, God's strength is made perfect. And maybe, just maybe, broken will become the new beautiful.

Food For Thought: Post Numero Uno!

Welcome, friends, to my pink, girly, new blog. Think of this little forum as our clubhouse, with our little pink sign posted on the tree trunk: Girlz Only! (Okay, but actually, I'm totally cool with guys poppin' in, too... as long as they're not too manly to read a pink blog.)



I want this to be a safe, supportive place of encouragement for any of us who are on this journey toward wholeness, who desire to break out of the Golden Cage (little nod to Hilde Bruch) of disordered eating and body loathing, and embrace the truth of God's Word regarding our bodies, ourselves.



PLEASE NOTE: This is NOT a pro-ana or pro-mia blog; your comments will be moderated, and anything deemed to be triggering or discouraging will be removed. Cool? Thanks!



So, here's the deal: I wrote this book, entitled "Hollow." As of this posting, it is currently in committee with a publishing house (yeah, I'll keep y'all posted on that), and I am working on a recovery devotional to accompany it upon its release. I didn't write the book to be a show-off or to help other women learn eating disorder tricks (it seems like a lot of other ED memoirs were written just for that purpose, doesn't it?). I wrote it because I feel someone needs to step up and tell the truth about this stuff -- deglamorize it, strip away the frills, lose the phony-baloney tidy endings, and get real about what eating disorders really are: evil lies, sticky traps, and life-destroyers.



I went to this writer's conference recently, where I got to meet my rockstar literary agent and pal around with some super cool Christian writers and speakers. Way cool; loved every minute. Anyway, my friend Millie, an author whom my agent also represents, enjoyed taking me by the arm and introducing me to folks, and saying, "Tell them, Jena; tell them about your book!" And I'll be real -- at first, I didn't want to. Other folks were there promoting these deeply moving spiritual works, uplifting Christian fiction, life-giving devotionals. I had this secret notion lurking in my mind that a book about my experience with a three-decades-long eating disorder was frivolous, unnecessary, maybe even a little self-important. I had NO IDEA how wrong I was.



On multiple occasions, during that conference, when I would shake someone's hand and (at Millie's prompting) say, "I've written a memoir about my struggle with an eating disorder," the person would say something along the lines of "Oh, honey -- we have to talk!" It seems I've touched on something of a hot button within the community of Christian women. I was able to have lunch with three women at the conference who themselves are or had been sufferers, and because I am still alive, I was able to encourage them (and they, me). And I gotta say, I think that's kinda cool.



So my agent, herself also aware of the relevance of my story (which is certainly not unique or rare, not even in the church), has encouraged me to put up a blog dealing specifically with these issues of anorexia and bulimia (or, really, any other variety of "food weirdness", as I call it) and/or struggles with body image. I was tentative at first, because these little groups can go sour rather easily, and become not-so-positive. So, this will be something of a challenge; if we can't do it, can't keep the climate recovery-focused and edifying, the blog goes dark. Got it? Good. :-) *spit shake*

I'll be posting random thoughts and encouragement regularly, and probably rambling on a bit here and there about my day. (I do that. You'll get used to it.) I'll probably clue you all in on what God is teaching me through His word, because that sort of thing gets me pretty jazzed these days.

Oh, and one more thing: for Petey's sake, PUH-LEEZE leave me lots of comments and feedback. I really dig it, and it will make my agent happy. 'Kay? Coolio.

So, there we have it: post number one, posted. Welcome to the clubhouse! Next time, bring a friend! :-) More to come, my pretties...

Blessings!
Jena