February 2, 2023
While preparing dinner one evening, I observed my 3-year-old son, Max, joyfully dancing around the kitchen to his own little tune. Suddenly, he halted and fixated on a drawing he had crafted, which was proudly displayed on the fridge with a handmade ceramic snowflake magnet he had created at school. This magnet was his treasure, a heartfelt gift meant for his father.
In an instant, I noticed Max tugging at the picture in an effort to reach his cherished snowflake. As I turned to caution him, the magnet fell off the refrigerator, crashing onto the tile floor and resulting in a shattered piece of the snowflake. Max was inconsolable. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he instinctively reached out for me, asking, “Mommy, can you fix it?”
In moments like these, mothers instinctively shift into problem-solving mode, ready to mend the broken pieces of our children’s worlds. We become the healers of small wounds, the providers of comfort, and the seekers of lost items. As I assessed the damage to Max’s beloved magnet, I simultaneously began searching for my glue gun, hoping to restore his broken creation. However, it dawned on me that the damage was more extensive than I initially thought; the piece hadn’t just broken—it had shattered. As I embraced him, I gently explained, “Max, it’s broken, and I’m afraid I can’t fix it.”
The realization that something so precious to him was irreparably damaged was too much for him to bear, and for once, I truly understood his pain. If you have a young child, you know that it’s often a challenge to see things from their perspective. Their requests can be fantastical, like asking for a sandwich to be cut into perfect triangles with a banana balanced on your head. But in this instance, I fully grasped his bewilderment. How could something so meaningful to him be broken beyond repair?
This experience brought to light my own struggles with the notion of brokenness—not in trivial matters, but in the broader context of personal loss and emotional wounds. For much of my life, I would describe hardships as “bending” me, never wanting to admit that I felt broken. However, on that day, I found the courage to acknowledge my own brokenness.
What led to this realization? The loss of my mother. It wasn’t just the heart-wrenching moment when I held her hand as she departed this world; it was witnessing the gradual decline of the vibrant woman I once knew. Each day brought the quiet pain of watching her energy fade and her hair thin. Simple moments, like seeing my children laugh and play, would trigger the thought, “Oh, how my mom would have cherished this.” Such reflections can be devastating.
We all have our own experiences of brokenness, whether from minor incidents that chip away at us or major events that shatter our sense of self. I don’t know what your source of pain is, but I want to share this: acknowledging our brokenness can be the first step toward healing. There’s a traditional Japanese art form that repairs broken pottery using lacquer mixed with gold, emphasizing the beauty of the object’s history rather than hiding its flaws. What if we, too, embraced our brokenness as a source of beauty?
As mothers, we strive to protect our children from life’s harsh realities, wishing them smooth sailing and gentle winds. Although I continue to hope for that for Max, I also recognize the importance of teaching him resilience in the face of adversity.
After cleaning up the remnants of the broken snowflake, I placed the magnet back on the fridge and reassured Max, “Look, it still works! The magnet is still holding your picture. In fact, now we can see even more of the beautiful artwork behind it.”
My wish for you, my dear child, is that when life breaks you, it becomes an opportunity for greater beauty to shine through—if you choose to see it that way. I pray that you always make that choice, for the world needs more light to emerge from the cracks of our brokenness.
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Summary:
In a moment of motherhood, I learned a profound lesson about brokenness while comforting my son after his cherished magnet shattered. This incident sparked a reflection on personal loss and the struggles we all face. Acknowledging our brokenness can lead to healing, much like the Japanese art of kintsugi that highlights imperfections. We should embrace our vulnerabilities as sources of beauty and resilience.