Dear Friends,
I've come to understand that being broken is how I should anticipate spending most of my life. Sure, there are times that I feel whole and together, but it rarely lasts more than a few weeks. And I've come to appreciate the comfort that comes from being dependent on God and the people He's put in my life.
My roommate broke up with her fiancé about two months ago. Her wedding date was yesterday, May 5th. She's reading a book right now (going on week five, I believe) entitled, "it's called a breakup because it's broken." And it is. She is. She sleeps too much and suffers from a lack of motivation, and I have yet to see her happy.
I got to thinking: what's different about us? I don't know that I can compare my life to somebody who breaks up with their fiancé... but my recent life hasn't been a walk in the park, either. The idea that the only difference is the magnitude of our troubles just doesn't ring true for me. As usual, my course of action was to search for an appropriate metaphor; to seek a visual that I could describe, and then see if that description applied to my life.
There are different types of broken. There are paper cuts and greenstick fractures and little plastic things that break off and render machines completely unusable. Some breaks are big, like losing a best friend or fiancé. Others are small, like facing another day with the dark clouds of worry hovering over your head. Sometimes the crack goes straight through; other times, the crack causes more breaks so that the pieces don't quite fit together anymore.
...And suddenly, I had my image. Crackers. Those two-cracker saltine packets in the little plastic bags that you always get with soup. The crackers you break in the package so you can pour them neatly into that chicken noodle without getting salt and bread crumbs on your hands. That cracker, of course, is me, and Leslie, and everybody else that is human enough to have a breaking point. The wrapper represents the relationships and connections that act as support.
Consider the extremes of wrapper size: if a cracker is in a gallon-sized zip-lock bag and it gets broken, it will crumble beyond repair. But if that same cracker is shrink wrapped, even when broken all the pieces will still fit together. It will fracture, but will not separate. At this point I have to switch metaphors. If you have a broken bone, what does a doctor do? The doctor sets it. Puts all the pieces together--broken, but together. Because if you put all those pieces together, they heal. They heal. They heal. Mantra of the broken heart.
Leslie was in a relationship that was scentral to her life almost to the exclusion of family and friends. So when the cookie crumbled, all the pieces scattered, and she was left with nobody to help her put them together. I, on the other hand, have God. And my family, and my friends. I've been constantly impressed by Leslie's strength in the face of her own unhappiness. She puts on a smile and goes to work and capitalizes on her competence. But humans heal as they rest, and how can there be rest without safety, and how there be safety without support?
More soon. Big things are afoot!
Dan
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See pictures of Leslie, Roxie, and my new house. (Look for the album labeled "Florida.")
View the FUN Archives .
You can contact me by replying to this e-mail. To send letters or packages, use the following address:
Dan Kaschel
2011 Oakwood Ave
Tampa, FL 33605
My phone number is 231-631-3016.
That's it! Shalom,
Dan
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