For my church family

the shards were handed to me,

with the words

"its all up to you now."

instinctively i cradled them to my breast

and, with a deep exhalation, 

said, yes, okay.

with a lifetime of assuming responsibility

for fixing broken things,

i stoically reported for duty.

then, 

in the moments after the encounter,

 i remembered.

i'm no longer a young girl

hoping to repair a broken family.

 

i'm no longer a lonely wife

hoping to regain a husbands attention and affection.

 

i'm no longer a social worker

hired for her skill to re-frame or reverse 

terrible mistakes in parenting.

 i took one deep breath,

then another,

opened my arms 

and 

let the shards fall.

its not up to me.

we will either pick up the pieces

and create something new with a mosaic we patch together,

recognizing that it will never be what it was before

OR

the pieces will remain where they fell;

we will acknowledge that there's little value

and perhaps no interest

in reclaiming them.

God will be with us in our choice

but the work will ultimately

be OURS.

it's not up to me.