chosen.

Bend Without Breaking


I’ve had this quote in my back pocket for years. Folded. Dirty. Frayed.

bend without breaking quote

Surely this is meant for someone else. Someone stronger. Wiser. More patient.

Backed into a corner. Trapped. I realize the arrow points at me.

I don’t feel persevering enough. Strong enough. Tough enough.

The weight is heavy. Oppressive. Laden with shame.

I most certainly will snap. Break in two. One can bend only so far managing crisis. Regulating emotional distress. Soothing abandonment issues.

Life has not turned out as expected.

Plunged into an unforeseen darkness. Bereft of answers. I reach out to God in despair. Empty. Confused.

I find myself irritated by platitudes. Gypped by the idea of hope. Longing for normal.

And in this place of foot stomping anger I face the true monster. Unfairness.

Life is not fair. Rarely equal. But always worthwhile.

This is my life. These are my people.

I gulp down understanding. The once bitter taste yielding to grace.

Nourished, I gaze at hope waiting.

I begin to value the complex layers of life. Accept the obstacles. Embrace the blessings.

Tenderly I care for fragile. Lingering over growth. Smiling at efforts.

Hours pass. Then days. And eventually years.

encaustic, original art

Pain ebbs and flows. There is bad then good then bad again. Two steps forward and 3 back.

Somehow I am still in one piece. Bent. Scarred. A beautiful mess.

I begin to comprehend that through was the only way. Bending the only option.

Now as I stretch into wholeness I understand that this was my pilgrimage of sorts. My story unfolding.

It continues still.

Like you, my narrative is filled with hardship. Sorrow. Joy.

God points at you.

Hope is at hand.

Press on, brave soul there is joy ahead.


I have woven a parachute out of everything broken.
— William Stafford

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