Tuesday, October 20, 2015


I tried not to think as I walked in the afternoon shade. Re-entry had been intense after our weekend away and Dakota's disappearance, and all I wanted was to be present, unplugged, in the cool of the woods.

It caught my eye because I was looking down, watching my step among the pinecones and dead branches.

Its beauty wasn't what drew me to it. It was the holes.

The leaf bore the scars of its diseased host. Tiny holes freckled its surface, and the grey brown gave no hint of its original color.

I picked it up and turned it over to see if any of its original beauty remained. Yellow tinges of what once was were muted by a deeper brown, and the tiny holes looked like dark specks.

Disease is hard to live with. I want to present my whole self--not my holey self--to the world. I want people to see my beautiful colors, not my grey-brown underside.

As I stared at it, I remembered the words of the apostle Paul:

But this beautiful treasure is contained in us
cracked pots made of earth and clay—
so that the transcendent character of this power will be clearly seen 
as coming from God and not from us. 
(II Corinthians 4:7)

The beautiful treasure, the transcendent power Paul is talking about is the presence of God. God wants to make Himself known through my life. "Cracked" is what I'm supposed to be, so that others will be attracted to His presence, His power they see at work in me.

I find that so challenging. How can the authentic display of my brokenness help others see God? Won't they just see the holes, not the Light shining through them?

That leaf was literally eaten alive. Any who passed by while it was hanging on its branch would've pitied its condition, but its existence brought greater understanding of its Creator to me on my casual walk. While that leaf was still green and holey, no one would've suspected that would its purpose. 

Yet, when I held it up to the light, it became a thing of beauty. 

So here's the question I'm asking myself: do others see my dark specks or pinholes of Light when they look at me?


  1. Because I think it's our vulnerability, our brokenness that provides the means to connect with others. It strips us bare of pretense, and ego, and superficiality, and lets us be in our purest human forms. Maybe we can't always articulate what we walk away with, but we can sense it, feel it, know it at some level. The brokenness, seems like the great equalizer, and simply allows us to see each other- and the light shining through.

  2. I love how you see God in these everyday things that I constantly walk by but don't think about. You really are gifted in that.