I want to be a Broken Lamp

There is a rule in our house that is as sacred as the Ten Commandments: Thou shalt not throw balls inside.

Seems pretty simple, right? Balls are for outside. You can throw them, catch them, bounce them, shoot them, and launch them into orbit if you want—but you may not turn my living room into an NBA court or a dodgeball arena.

And yet… as every parent knows, simplicity does not equal obedience.

One day, one of my children—who shall remain nameless for their own protection—decided to disregard the family code of conduct and launched a ball across the family room with the precision and force of a Major League pitcher… aiming directly at their sibling on the other side.

The sibling, naturally, assumed this was the start of a spontaneous dodgeball match and did what any sane person would do—they immediately jumped out of the way.

Unfortunately, behind that sibling stood my lamp. My beautiful, innocent, porcelain lamp.

And the ball? It connected. Perfect shot. Lamp down. Lamp gone.

There was a moment of silence that felt like the calm after a nuclear blast. No one moved. Even our dog, Bella, was frozen…anxiously awaiting my response.

I walked over in slow motion, scooped up what used to be a lamp, and began dropping shards of porcelain into the trash can like I was conducting a funeral.

Suddenly, the chorus of finger-pointing and “It was THEIR fault!” and “I told him not to!” began.

And then—my precious….sweet….newly grounded rule-breaker walked over, looked at the pieces, and said with all the sincerity in the world, “It’s okay, Mom. I can glue it back together.”

I almost let them try… for about two seconds. But the lamp wasn’t just cracked—it was confetti. There was no fixing it. It was ruined. Beyond repair.

And that’s when it hit me.

I am that lamp.

I’ve tried to glue myself back together more times than I can count. When life breaks me—when I mess up, when I feel inadequate or insecure—I immediately reach for the super glue. I try to hide the cracks, patch the flaws, make myself look like I’ve got it all together.

But no matter how hard I try, it doesn’t work. I just end up a wobbly, sticky, glue-covered mess.

And you know what’s wild? There’s a guy in the Bible who felt the exact same way.

Paul—yes, that Paul, writer of half the New Testament—literally begged God to take away his “thorn in the flesh.” (2 Corinthians 12) We don’t know what the thorn was—maybe it was physical, emotional, spiritual. Maybe it was a teenager with a ball. (Kidding…) But whatever it was, Paul pleaded with God three times to fix it.

And God said… “No.”

Well, technically, He said:
“My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.”
(2 Corinthians 12:9)

Which is beautiful and poetic—and also kind of frustrating if you’re someone like me who would really prefer Jesus just remove the weakness entirely…

But that’s not the way God works.

He doesn’t wait for us to be unbreakable to use us. He shines through us because of the cracks. His power shows up right in the middle of our mess, our brokenness, our own inability to super glue our lives back together.

And that means I can stop trying to be “Beth, the perfectly put-together Christian girl.”

Truth is, I don’t want to be her anyway. She sounds exhausted and weary.

If I’m really honest, I think I want to be “Beth, the broken lamp.”

Still shattered in places. Still nicked and chipped and missing a few pieces.

…But shining brighter because of Jesus living in me.

Sweet friend, maybe it's time we stop trying to glue it all back together.
Maybe it's time to just hand God the mess—and let His light shine through every single crack.

…Because what the world needs isn’t your perfection—it’s His presence.  So let’s shine Him bright TODAY!