Five Minute Friday - Broken

1. Write for 5 minutes flat – no editing, no over thinking, no backtracking.
2. Link back here to Lisa Jo's blog and invite others to join in.
3. And then absolutely, no ifs, ands or buts about it, you need to visit the person who linked up before you & encourage them in their comments. Seriously. That is, like, the rule. And the fun. And the heart of this community..
OK, are you ready? Please give me your best five minutes on:::

Broken:

Go:

In the corner of my bedroom was a child's toy baby bed....filled with memories of my childhood.....broken dolls.  My Shirley Temple doll was there with clouded eyes from being exposed to too much heat.  My Madam Alexander Doll was there because she had a broken arm.  Mastectomy Midge was there because her right breast had been removed after I played with her....and my bike....using it as a ferris wheel.  She went through the spokes and she was broken.  On my dresser was a broken poodle statue that my dad had lovingly glued back.  My precious Ethel had given it to me when I moved to El Prado.  My chest of drawers had a broken handle that fell lopsided and so the drawer was never entirely shut.  Inside the walls of my house was a broken little family because of the death of my baby brother. 

I was never a girly-girly....but I have had a broken heart.  I used to draw pictures of them when I was younger.  They would always have a shattered line and I would put a Band-Aid on them.  I thought that I was extremely artistic with this little venture.  I actually won a ribbon in high school after doing one in water color.  Broken hearts are devastating.  I was a student at Belvedere Elementary when I had my first one.  I think I was in second grade.  I liked a little boy and he did not like me.  I was broken.  I remember crying in my momma's arms while she tried to make the hurt go away.  I did not know that little boys were not into girls, like girls were into little boys.  Throughout my life there have been many broken hearts due to unrequited love.  Their names were Doug, Steve, Harold, Jim....and many of them are just faded memories.....I cannot even remember their faces.  Even though I was broken for a time....I survived.  I moved on to the next love....was broken again....and survived again.  It is amazing how one can survive growing up and the broken hearts that go with it.

Many times as a mother my heart has been broken by my children.  It does not mean that I don't love them any more...it just means that for a brief period....my feelings were hurt.  Kat's leg was broken because of a Water Slide in Pigeon Forge, TN one Labor Day weekend.  I was broken too....I felt as if I had let my daughter down.  I felt as if it were my fault that she had to experience this.  I wanted to fix her broken bone...I needed to...to fix my own brokenness. 

I was raised in church.  My parents went and took me.  I learned many valuable lessons while there....had a few more broken hearts....and I learned that there was beauty in brokenness.  I learned that lesson young.  There have been many times in my life when out of the ashes of the broken I have risen again like a Phoenix.  How have I survived this?  I have a special super power....called Jesus.  Whenever I feel as if I am so broken that I cannot go on....I remember His crucifixion.  He was broken and spilled out because He loved me so much.  It is because of His  great love that I find myself....broken....and humbled before Him.  When I read Isaiah 6:8....it broke me.  I knew what I should be doing and I knew what I was not doing....and that was not following His will.  Once I  was broken....I turned to Him and submitted to His Will.  Will I ever experience being broken again?  Oh, I am sure of it....but I have the assurance....His assurance....that this too will pass.

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