I watched the fan, silently blowing on the family in La Danta and the community advocates as they ate their lunch together. The family’s daughters ran back and forth from the table bringing photos for me to admire-the serious and smiling captured -bound in the moment- forever.
And the fan silently ran, but it too was bound in a different way. Tightly tied up and zip tied to not rattle and shake and create a crazy noise that would have intruded on the happy space of the slow lunch.
All I could think of is how it has been bound up but that this is not a “good” fix.
We do this to ourselves and each other. We bind up the noise and the pain and the anger to silence it. We run smoothly for a while- as individuals and as communities and countries until the cord or ribbon snaps and all hell breaks loose. -If you have ever been around a fan that you have bound up (like the one I taped up to stop rattling) you will know the terror when It all snaps and the grinding starts, and the fan’s cover falls off, and the whole thing rattles to the ground in a dangerous and shrieking death throes. -
My friend Monchita gently asked me if her husband could take the time to fix my broken fans. I relented but I felt bad asking him. My pride said I should know how to fix a stupid rattling fan. But I relented, and when I returned one day my fans were humming happily along.
Harmonic music of wind.
And it hit me watching that bound up fan run diligently.
How often do I refuse to let God fix my heart? I barrel through my life, binding up my hurts and anger and resentments. Like a badge of honor, I hold my zip ties and string -my mental metals- never realizing I have imprisoned myself in my attempts to fix myself. My pride the gatekeeper who swallows the key.
All I must do is ask God to take the time to oil my heart, clean my eyes, rework the mental processes that are rattling in my head like nails in a jar. To send His Son or a wiser person than I for healing.
Take the time. And humbly let God take the control. We as humans and societies don’t like that. We want to do it ourselves.
But we won’t last long. We burn out our motors or snap apart in a frenetic death rattle.
Like a fan, recently fixed by God , I BECAME a kintsugi bowl. More precious and beautiful than I ever was before, and more harmonious in my world. But I had to ask God in to take me apart and then fix me anew. To create Anew what was not working well.
My friend Monchita gently asked me if her husband could take the time to fix my broken fans. I relented but I felt bad asking him. My pride said I should know how to fix a stupid rattling fan. But I relented, and when I returned one day my fans were humming happily along.
Harmonic music of wind.
And it hit me watching that bound up fan run diligently.
How often do I refuse to let God fix my heart? I barrel through my life, binding up my hurts and anger and resentments. Like a badge of honor, I hold my zip ties and string -my mental metals- never realizing I have imprisoned myself in my attempts to fix myself. My pride the gatekeeper who swallows the key.
All I must do is ask God to take the time to oil my heart, clean my eyes, rework the mental processes that are rattling in my head like nails in a jar. To send His Son or a wiser person than I for healing.
Take the time. And humbly let God take the control. We as humans and societies don’t like that. We want to do it ourselves.
But we won’t last long. We burn out our motors or snap apart in a frenetic death rattle.
Like a fan, recently fixed by God , I BECAME a kintsugi bowl. More precious and beautiful than I ever was before, and more harmonious in my world. But I had to ask God in to take me apart and then fix me anew. To create Anew what was not working well.
And like a fan I am learning and guessing I will have to do this again and again, lest I become a danger to others and myself as I spin daily through this life.
Humbleness is not easy. But the peace of humming the tune God has meant for me in His orchestra is the prize.
I don’t want to be a bound-up fan, but instead the song and the breeze.
