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Friday, November 30, 2007

Broken Cars and Broken Dreams

by Anabel Gillham

Give your burdens to the Lord. He will carry them - Psalm 55:22 TLB

You have seen me tossing and turning through the night. You have collected all my tears and preserved them in Your bottle! You have recorded every one in Your book - Psalm 56:8 TLB

In the early years having four boys around the house meant toy cars . . . all sizes, shapes, makes, and models. My youngest, Wade, came into the kitchen one afternoon, tears on his cheeks and one on the tip of his nose -- a favorite Hot Wheels car in a viselike grip.

"I . . . broke . . . my car . . . Mom," -- uttered between gasping sobs.

I'm ready to do anything I can to erase his tears and put his small four-year-old-world back together.

"Let me see it, Honey." Sure enough. The axle was bent and the little car wouldn't roll. "Hey, I think I can help. I'm real good at fixing broken things . . . want me to try?"

"Yes . . . (gulp), ma'am."

I stepped into the garage and found two pairs of pliers. (You have to have one pair to hold the tip of the axle steady while you straighten it with the other pair; I had faced this serious mechanical problem before.) I went back into the kitchen where Wade was waiting -- crying because something he loved so dearly was broken beyond his ability to repair.

He had the car clutched tightly in his fist.

"You want me to work on it?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Well, then -- you're going to have to let me have it in my hands." I got down on my knees so he could watch while I worked. I loved his head being so close to mine . . . and his leaning against my leg.

Wade's precious little broken cars: Anabel's precious dreams -- broken beyond my ability to repair.

Sobbing, I show them to my Father and He gently says, "Do you want Me to work on them?"

"Yes, Lord."

"Well, then -- you're going to have to let Me have them in My hands."
"But, Lord, that means I'll have to give up control! I've got to keep trying...."

"The choice is yours, Anabel. You may keep them or give them to Me."

"But Lord, You -- You seem to move so slowly! I've given them to You before and nothing happens!"

"Anabel, dear -- I never had them in My hands."

Lord, I stand here holding my precious shattered dreams -- fully intending to give them to You -- but clutching them so tightly. They're badly broken, and I've been trying -- unsuccessfully -- to fix them for a long time now. I choose -- this day -- to open my fists and let them go. Please take them in Your hands and fix them. And Lord -- may I lean on You and watch?

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