The Broken Chair

I keep resisting writing about this, but the metaphor is just too strong, so it is with some trepidation that I share this story:

Recently ( won’t tell you how—too humiliating, just let me say it was a stupid mistake) a lovely almost-antique chair broke, not just a leg, but several legs, rungs, seat and back.  In other words, ruined beyond fixing.  I tucked it in my closet and thought about how and if it could be repaired, but I’ve pretty much decided it’s headed for the dump. Some things cannot be fixed.

But as I looked at all those jagged pieces of wood I realized this was more than about a chair, in some ways my whole life was the same jagged clump of ruined pieces.  That old life I had is gone, beyond fixing; I’m in  a new place, filled with empty spaces,  yet to be determined how to be filled.  There’s a lot about it that’s scary, especially to someone as keyed into security as I am.

Then I think of the words of Dallas Willard, “we do not need to fear ( the present, or the future), Jesus is here.”  Of course at the time I was unaware of the depth of the challenges that would await me.  While I knew we have trouble in this world, somehow I always thought Roger would be there to face it with me ( at least for another decade or so).

I could never  have imagined the many challenges of the newly single life, and the utter loneliness in spite of friends, family, counselors, the Word of God. It’s me, there, alone, standing in the need of prayer.  I take a step at a time, hopefully foreword, and I leave the broken chair behind.