I do not like broken things.
Throughout life there are things that are broken, things that are broken beyond repair and things that are broken with instructions on how to be fixed.
According to some of our Jesus friends, we can ignore broken things; we, as humans of God’s race, have the ability to chalk broken things up to divine intervention or as something that we’re not able to question and our outside of simple acceptance. We are to accept that our crude carbon forms are only capable of so much and that if something bad does happen to us, it’s God’s will, or in essence not our fault.
Right, wrong, good, bad, God’s will, free will, it still doesn’t change broken things. Broken things, broken things... I was out, the other night, with a friend of mine that told me not to worry about broken things, that I should focus more on the positive, more on what is good in life than to worry about those things that cannot be fixed; things that are beyond my control or those things that I do not wish to control. And I took those words and I drank to them. And even while I raised my glass, I half knew the toast was in vain, but even my drunk self appreciated the irony.
There are too many broken people in the world, too many that keep wanting what they shouldn’t; the beautiful dreamers, that if God had a say would be the people that were running the world.
In a perfect world, we would all be satisfied, we would all follow the Norse tradition of Valhalla and win the battle everyday and every night drink wine from the skull’s of our enemies. We would know that we are the best, that are competitors failed in their attempt to usurp us. That we are, in essence, perfect or at least working towards perfection. But there is no perfect and everybody that doesn’t accept that at least knows it.
Broken things only come with simple answers, or absolutes. Given that, some will live the rest of their lives under the assumption that something broken will never be talked about, or that it was never broken. Some will operate within the confines that something that breaks will be fixed or that it is fixed. Others will take something that is broken and throw it out, never think about it anymore. The last option is acceptance. To accept that once something is broken it can never be fixed, and then to deal with it; to take the pangs and arrows of a broken thing and learn to live with it. Perhaps not to like it, perhaps not to love it, but to accept it.
I do not like broken things, I do not like complete things, I do not like absolutes. I like not yet made up things. I like things that are still not broken, things that are still within the realms of beautiful dreamers imagination’s. And yet, I can recognize beauty in something that is broken. And, perhaps our friends of Jesus are right, yet they don't know it. Perhaps there is beauty in broken things. To see it, standing in front of you, naked, ripped from the burden that it was carrying, with it’s broken hands bleeding from the nails that had been driven into them. Perahps there is nothing in the world more beautiful than something broken; it’s just a shame that is always has to come to it.∂
