Not the one Margeaux made at the retreat. This was a new bracelet.
After reading the last story, “The Blessings of a Bracelet," she surprised me with what I call
“My Life” bracelet.
It had all these different beads- BIG and small. Black, clear, blue, pink and red beads. Some were simple in shape while others were quite silly. This was her representation of my life manifest in a bracelet.
I don’t know how it happened.
I was slipping it off before bed one night and poof! All these beads were rolling round the bathroom.
I was finding beads for days afterwards.
I think I must have been tugging too hard on it at night. All that tension and stress just built up until --breakage.
As I’ve said before, beads are not my thing so I don’t have any of the supplies or tools to make jewelry. Instead of trying to fix it myself, I called Margeaux and told her what happened.
She said to give it to her and she’d be happy to fix it.
She didn’t yell at me or make me feel bad that I broke it. She just offered to fix it.
Actually, not fix it because I snapped the nylon in half. She is recreating it for me instead.
One night after bible study, I remembered my little baggie with my broken bracelet in it. I handed it to her and said, “Look at my life!”
She laughed and said, “It’s a mess! Don’t worry, I’ll rework it.”
As I drove away I started to chuckle.
How much insight was the Lord going to give me with these little bracelets anyway?!
Well at least one more thing...
For a very long time, my life looked like that broken bracelet with pieces everywhere. My life was barely functional.
What did I do then? Well I picked up the proverbial pieces and I tried to fix it.
I didn’t have the tools or supplies but I tried anyway. It was always in vain.
All I needed to do was tell my Creator, “Oops, I broke it. Can you help me?” Without guilt or condemnation, I would have heard a loving, gentle, “Yes.”
But I never asked Him and I never gave Him the chance. At least not until later. Much later I’m afraid.
Instead, I actually wore my own creation. People kept asking me, “What is that?”
"Why, it’s my life can’t you see?"
No, they couldn’t because it didn’t look much like a life that anyone would voluntarily wear. But that’s what I did. I wore it for years.
It didn’t fit and truth be told, it was quite ugly.
Finally, thankfully, it broke for the very last time.
I couldn’t even find all the pieces. I was scattered and lost. At my core, I was empty.
Then His hand reached down to me. The very beautiful and very scarred hand of Jesus.
He took the pieces I had left and placed them around His Spirit. He gave me gifts and added them too. I didn’t have to do anything. I didn’t have to help or worry. I simply trusted and received what He had for me.
As we know from the “Blessings” story, His reworking of my life is exactly that-
I just simply wear it for all to see.