Broken Pieces

Have you ever come to the end of some portion of your life and looking back felt a sense of accomplishment that you had done well? A sort of Apostle Paul confession, “I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.” 2 Timothy 4:7 (ESV)

Although, by the grace of God I have managed to finish one or two things in my life, it is almost never with a cry of victory. It is usually with a whimper and a sigh, with more gratitude for having managed to survive the experience than triumph. Frequently lately, I have been reminded of the following favorite devotional written by Amy Carmichael: John 6:10-12 NIV

10 Jesus said, “Have the people sit down.” There was plenty of grass in that place, and they sat down (about five thousand men were there). 11 Jesus then took the loaves, gave thanks, and distributed to those who were seated as much as they wanted. He did the same with the fish.

12 When they had all had enough to eat, he said to his disciples, “Gather the pieces that are left over. Let nothing be wasted.”

Have you ever felt at the end of the day that you had nothing to offer but ‘broken pieces’ of things?

“In the morning we put our day in the Lord’s hands. Then we began to do His work, but we were not able to do nearly as much as we had hoped. Interruptions came and broke up our plans, and the evening finds us a little disappointed. ‘I hoped to do so much, and I have done nothing worth bringing to Thee’—and that is how we feel. I have been finding new comfort in the two words, which are used by the four evangelists in telling the end of the story of the feeding of the Five Thousand. They speak of ‘broken pieces’ and the same words are used by two in telling of the later miracle. There was nothing left over but broken pieces, and yet of those fragments our Lord said, Gather them up that nothing be lost. Even so, our dear Lord cares for the broken pieces of our lives, the fragments of all we meant to do, the little that we have to gather up and offer, and He will use even these fragments. He will not let even the least of our little broken things be lost.” Amy Carmichael from Edges of His Ways

I am staring down at my bits and pieces, tonight, thinking that there is not much left of my pathetic little lunch I offered to the Lord. Still, I have more pieces than I did when I first gave it.

Father, please gather the broken pieces of my offering so that nothing (no one) will be lost.

When my son and his wife were running the Los Angeles marathon to raise money to dig wells in Africa, I spent a lot of time looking for inspirational quotes to pester them with while they trained. You know, on one of those apps that speak your likes and words to them while they run. I found a common theme running through the quotes:

Everyone who finishes a marathon is a winner whether they come in first or last! Anyone who undergoes the discipline to train, endures the weather, traffic, aches, pains, and stays with it all the way to the finish line has accomplished at least a victory over himself or herself. They have attempted what others avoided. They have finished something, even if it is with a whimper.

The winners say, “Not somehow, but triumphantly!”

I guess I am more in the category of “not triumphantly, but somehow”.

So how can I go forward? I have to believe-Lamentations 3:22-24 (ESV)

22 The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases;
    his mercies never come to an end;
23 they are new every morning;
    great is your faithfulness.
24 “The Lord is my portion,” says my soul,
    “therefore I will hope in him.”

Every morning I reach out for a larger portion of the Lord’s love and mercy, which He says, will never run low. Every morning there is a new supply. It is GRACE! Ravi Zacharias often quotes this poem although the original author is not known:

A New Start

He came to me with a quivering lip,

The lesson was done,

Have you a new sheet for me, dear teacher,

I’ve spoiled this one.

So I took his sheet all soiled and blotted

And gave him a new one, all unspotted

And into his tired heart I cried,

Do better now, my child.

I came to the Father with a trembling soul,

The day was done.

Have You a new day for me, Dear Master,

I’ve spoiled this one.

So He took my day all soiled and blotted

And He gave me a new one, all unspotted.

And into my weary heart He cried,

Do better now, My child.

—from an Elementary School Teacher