I have been picking up the shattered pieces, as I find them along this path we call life. And slowly, but surely, these pieces come together into this thing i once called my heart, but this time, the shape it makes, no longer matches with what I was once born with. Constantly, it falls apart, and yet again, I pick them hoping this time I can hold it long enough to make it through one more day. And I hope that when I wake up tomorrow, the pieces will still be held together, that along my path of life I'll keep finding the missing pieces, hoping and praying, that maybe God will restore it to the innocent thing that it once was.
But little do I know, the heart I was born with, God never let it out of His powerful grasp. Little did I know, that the pieces I have been picking up were not of His gift, but of my own brokenness. These small pieces I have been desperately searching, and selfishly holding on to, these small broken, unmanageable, and painful pieces, were only bread crumbs leading me into the arms of my unconditional lover.
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