The Broken Flower

Much of the pomp and circumstance had died down and I look across the room filled with proud family members of the graduating class and out of the corner of my eye, I spot it, a broken red carnation, lying in the floor by the seat of the one who had received it earlier.  My heart broke in as many pieces as the flower seemed to be with my thoughts of what that flower represented.

Earlier, this flower had been given to a young man to present to a mom, or grandma, a significant female caregiver in appreciation for the love and hard work it had taken to get them to this place in life.  Soon after he had been handed his flower, the stem snapped off in his hand and he stood with the broken flower.  He was told to be careful and to hold it just so to keep it intact to give away.  (There were no flowers to spare or to replace it with.) I thought no more about it, until I spied the broken flower in the floor where he had sat....long after the time had passed for giving the flower away.  I was so wrapped up with my responsibility, my little charges doing what they were supposed to that I had paid no attention to him.

When I caught a glimpse of that flower in the floor, I sat broken in heart thinking about how this young man's life and how many other children have lives that are as broken as that flower.  Most don't say a thing.  They just live every day, doing everyday things the best that they know how to and to appear "normal."  Sometimes there are telltale signs, behavior, lack of effort, etc. but, other times these broken children appear "normal." 

I thought about that for whatever reason, reasons that had nothing to do with a child, how family bonds get broken.  In this instance, it was obvious that there had been no one there to receive the offering of the flower that he had been given to give.  Tears formed in my eyes as I began to think about the brokenness in our world and in the lives of many kids.  I began to pray not only for this young man but for all the kids who live in such brokenness all of the time.  They didn't choose.  They didn't choose for their families to be torn apart.  They didn't choose to be shoved aside while the "adults" in their lives follow selfish, self-serving pursuits.  They didn't choose to be born to broken people who have no idea how to mend the brokenness to be a parent.  They didn't choose to be second to an addiction or to an unhealthy relationship.  THEY DIDN'T CHOOSE.  

I began to think about how children ultimately pay the price for adult brokenness.  I thought of often we are quick to criticize or quick to speak of how awful or quick to just shake our head and wish someone would do something with them and ignore the reality of what is going on.  I thought of how quick we are to dismiss the problem as belonging to someone else.  I thought of how we wag our head and tongue talking about how that child might or might not "make it" to be a "productive" citizen.  I began to wonder do we even try to look deeper, to look with hearts of compassion and to search for a way to maybe hedge the gap in a youngster's life.  My thoughts then turned to what is my responsibility in this and what can I do?   

In the brokenness of my life I have learned that "BUT GOD" and apart from God there is nothing that will heal the brokenness.... God is the ultimate healer.  He is the curse breaker.  He is the restorer.  I have learned that only when Christ steps in and puts a balm of healing on a hurting heart will that heart be healed.  What am I to do?  PRAY.  Put hands and feet on that prayer and LOVE with Christ's love.  LOVE sometimes has to get in the trenches and get dirty.  LOVE sometimes had to go beyond the brick walls that are in place for self-preservation.  LOVE has to sometimes be patient and kind when it is not given any reason to be.  LOVE has to look past the circumstances of the moment into the possibilities. Speak words of life; speak words of hope into a young life.  If as Christ's child, I choose to ignore what has been put in front of me, then where is my heart truly? Life is full of choices.  In this case, do I choose to ignore what is in front of me, or do I choose to be as Christ would call me to be and be present in a broken child's life as a positive influence for Him?   There are ministries and opportunities all around us if we choose to look.  These kids don't ask anyone to love them; in fact, the most unlovable are often the ones who need love the most.  They don't always walk into our churches or into our homes; however if we choose to look with a heart that sees, we can make a difference. 

I had wished for a camera to capture a picture at that moment.  I pray that God burns the image into my memory and that HE not let me forget that little broken flower and what it represented.