Broken

The layers of blue swirl out in front of me. Rippling, foaming seawater dances in the morning light. It moves, rhythmically like a living work of art, catching the eye, drawing me in. For a moment my thoughts are prisoner to this sublime portrait; my mind unable to process lesser notions. Beyond the pulsating expanse, sky begins. Misty grey clouds hang over the horizon like a Herculean curtain, concealing the edge of the world. Grey gives way to never-ending blue. My neck arches back and again I am lost in the magnitude and splendor of this art in which I dwell.

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The peace lasts only for a moment. My senses, unable to focus, my neck burning with the strain, and conscious thought gives way to the chaotic chattering in my head. I am broken.

This is joy interrupted. An invitation to delight stolen by anxieties and despair. A moment of peace and serenity ripped away by the madness of guilt that consumes and desecrates the soul. I am broken.

My hope is this: that the brevity of this experience will one day give way to the brevity of this life. What I now see dimly, then will I know in full splendor. Life never-ending, beauty unmatched. Brokenness will give way to wholeness, chaos to peace, guilt to forgiveness. In this hope I am healed.

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