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My Secret Drawer

7/31/2014

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My Secret Drawer


I held the shattered pieces of my broken heart in my torn and bleeding hands. I had tried to glue them but the sharp fragments pierced my skin over and over. The jagged shards seemed too many to put together.
I threw them in the hidden drawer of broken things to fix some other time when I could better handle the tiny remnants. It was insurmountable to me and I decided to put it out of my mind for the time.


That was when I realized that the Master Artisan was there with me. He smiled His kind smile and I felt the Love in Him as He hugged me. His smile was gentle and kind but to my shame, my horror He headed straight to the secret drawer stuffed with brokenness. I was frozen in fear and my mind screamed "No!"
He looked at the contents of that drawer and in that still quiet voice, He said "This is not your heart Dear Child. I've held that for safekeeping right here in My hands.”

Sure enough He opened His Beautiful Craftsman hands and there was my heart safe inside. I was confused though, I didn't understand what the mess in the drawer could be.


"This is your pain," He said, "and you don't need to hold on to it anymore."


I was reluctant to hand to over. It was ugly, disgusting and covered with dirt, grime, and blood. 'What if the splinters cut you?" I asked. I was crying now unable to come up with any reason other than my fear not to let go of the ever growing contents of the drawer.


The Creator showed me His hands once again. I noticed then the wounds, that went all the way through them, and that somehow made them even more beautiful.
So I picked up each cutting piece and every sharp fragment and my tears fell on the monstrosity as I handed it over to The Master.


He took it all from me and worked it with those rough workman’s hands. Then He gave it back to me. I was astonished, never before had I ever seen anything like it. It was crystal and shining and beautiful. When I peered it into it the reflection looking back at me was the Glorious Countenance of the King.

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    Poetry by Donna Campbell. Over the years, I've written poetry as I have suffered, grown, and learned. Some may seem negative but it was the way I felt in the moment.
    Additionally I will often share something I have worked on, or just have some thoughts I write down in essay form or even a rant. I look forward to the conversation we might have.

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