brokenness travels

picking up the pieces doesn’t happen on the road.

it happens in bed before you put your clothes on for work.
it happens in the middle of the night as you philosophize about the meaning of 3am awakenings.
it happens when you look in the mirror day after day until accepting that yes, that’s you looking back.
it happens when you’re in the kitchen cooking and find yourself humming to a tune sourced from a joyful memory.
it happens when you’re tucking your child in at night, and you’re overcome with the sense that there’s no other place you’re supposed to be.
it happens when you order a drink at the bar and a stranger sits next to you to talk until you find no more need to drink away the moment.
it happens when “they” tell you that you’re nothing and it just don’t hit the same cause you know better.
it happens when “they” tell you that you’re not qualified for the position and you realize they’re right, there is something better for you on the horizon and your patience will pay off.
it happens when you stop apologizing in guilt and admitting that your imperfections aren’t sins, and even if they are, they don’t come to tear you down but to grow you in faith and wisdom.
it happens when you stop running away and realize that brokenness travels.

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