How humanity and Pyrex are the same.
I was putting dishes away tonight, as well as the left-over chicken parm and pasta from dinner. I reached up into the cabinet to the shelf that’s just above my head. I’m nearly 6 feet tall, so the level shelf must be about that high. I was reaching for my trusty Pyrex containers. The most awesome glass storage containers ever. (If you are “living” without Pyrex, you’re not really living.) I grabbed the stack, as about 6 of them nestle together from largest to smallest. I needed a medium size. So I pull the whole stack out, balance it with one hand, remove the smaller sizes out of the center and place them up onto the shelf where the stack once sat, and grab the size I need. It slips, away, like slow motion, and hits the black granite counter top, and immediately is sent flying in different directions, shards and shrapnel made of glass.
I panicked, and froze. I was bare foot, in the kitchen, and thankfully, NOT pregnant. I let out a sigh of relief both then and now as I write this.
I determined the few steps to my nearest pair of shoes, and made a barricade of chairs and bins and bags of garbage to keep Wes from entering the now-made war zone of a kitchen.
While sweeping and wiping and carefully and painstakingly removing what seemed to be gallons of glass pieces from my kitchen, I started thinking.
If you know about Pyrex, you know it’s quite durable glass. This isn’t your typical fine china. It’s thick. It even has a hint of blue-ish green to the glass because of its density. It’s heavy. It can stand up to heat and cold and mixing and baking. Which is one of the reasons I have fallen madly in love with it. Don’t tell my husband. Pyrex is made to withstand the kitchen. Literally.
But when it fell, regardless of its thickness, it landed smack dab on the hard granite, and broke without standing a sorry chance.
Sometimes you and I are like Pyrex.
We have thick skin, heavy burdens, and fragile hearts. Hearts so fragile, we’ve learned to encase them in dense material that can withstand life and all emotion.
Maybe you’re reading this and you’re addicted to drugs, or sex, lying, slander, or maybe you’re just addicted to Facebook and twitter.
Maybe you’re cheating on your spouse, cheating on an employer, or just cheating yourself out of abundant life.
Perhaps you’re living in homosexuality, living in abuse, or just living for yourself.
All of these situations make us hard and calloused and densely weighted by the world.
They make us like that piece of Pyrex
Maybe you’re the guy who loved and lost the girl of his dreams.
Maybe you’re the mom who is so exhausted you've thought about giving up.
Maybe you’re the boss who has the weight of responsibility hanging over an entire company of employees.
Maybe you’re the “friend” on Facebook stirring up drama.
Maybe you’re the atheist who is so wounded by church and Christians and people claiming to “love”, that you’ve decided there is no such thing as Perfect Love.
Maybe you’re like me and find yourself up on a shelf every once in a while, or sometimes (usually more so) more than that, full of self and pride and puffed up…way up….to a six foot shelf, nestled between more of yourself.
But let me tell you….
Like that Pyrex…
When you slip…when I slip….when I’ve slipped before….you fall.
You fall far. And you hit hard.
You hit the rock.
And the Rock that is Higher than I sends my pathetic self into a shattering mess, that only He can restore and redeem and make beautiful again.
Maybe you need to fall hard on the Rock that is Jesus.
I know I do. I always do.
And when I think I don’t need to, that’s when I need to most.
I need Jesus.
I need to fall hard on Him. And be broken and poured out all over the place, for others.
Yes I’m a mom. And yes. I just made a spiritual reference out of kitchen-ware. But it’s true. And you know it.
When my heart is overwhelmed, (or like Pyrex) Lead me to the Rock that is higher than I.