|Broken|

I imagine

I imagine that’s how children must feel when they first discover that Santa Clause isn’t real, or that it’s actually mom and dad that hide chocolate treats in the garden at Easter – not a fluffy white rabbit. (How would it carry all of them anyway?) Broken.

I imagine that’s how a child must feel when they first stumble upon the knowledge that their dad isn’t Superman, or that their dog, Spot, never went to live on a farm with lots of open space. Spot died.

I imagine that’s how a lost child must feel in a store and no matter how many aisles they look down they can’t seem to find their way, let alone recognise anyone or anything familiar. So they walk and run and cry and bump into things hoping to eventually land up in the right place.

Just broken

Everything you’ve ever known crumbles to pieces and you’re actually not sure of anything anymore. You begin to question all the things you do, no matter how bizarrely unrelated they are to the ‘balloon that’s just popped in your face.’

This is how I felt today.

Signs of cracks

Backtracking a little… Last Friday was a particularly bad day. There were some high-pressure projects going on at work (as is the industry) and I managed to botch up, not one but, two of the significant, we-really-need-to-keep-this-client ones. What followed next and for the rest of the day felt like a barrage of insults, expletives (bad words), criticism, judgement, questioning, testing, undermining, moaning and intolerance. All directed at me. (I have sources that would concur.) My name was thrown about loosely and carelessly in conversation I wasn’t even part of.

Needless to say, I cried all the way home (like the little piggy that couldn’t go to the market), and I’ll even admit to being slightly tense for the remainder of the weekend.

That brings us back to today

I lay low. Very, very low all day.

• I went to the bathroom once only
• The only other time I got up was to get my lunch (which I took back to eat at my desk)
• I did exactly as I was told and virtually only moved when I was called
• At 17:10 I slunk out of the office like a dog with its tail between its legs.

For those of you who don’t know: I am a copywriter. My job is to work with words in any form. Also, this blog post sounds like a whole bunch of griping. It is partly that. It is also partly me processing these things, and partly me painting a holistic picture for you. It does look up towards the end though. Hang in there.

Crying over spilt milk

Of all the work I had today, I only had to give input on two projects – one required editing and extension of some copy, and the other required me to edit signage (really not too hard). I was a nervous wreck. I nearly started blubbing over the signage because I wasn’t sure if my comma was in the right place. As for the copy, it took me twenty minutes to begin writing. When I eventually did start it seemed to go OK, but my heart palpitations said otherwise.

On Friday I felt like I’d never doubted myself more in my life. It felt like the carpet had been pulled out from under my feet. I kept saying “I don’t know. Ask me on Monday, maybe I’ll be sure then.” That was supposed to be today. Well, it was today and I was by no means sure of anything.

At least I didn’t cry all the way home.

The big question is…

When you get shaken that much, so much so that your foundation is a little cracked (or your psyche and sanity – big diff!), where do you start rebuilding from? There’s a saying that says: “If it isn’t broken, don’t fix it,” but what if it’s so broken it seems impossible to fix?

The Master Builder

I had to ask myself today: where do I get my worth from? Is it my ability to do things well? Is it my passion for writing and words? All these are great, but what happens when those are shaken – sometimes razed to the ground. Just like they were for me. What then? Where does my worth come from now?

I had to remind myself that it’s not what I do that makes me who I am; it’s the I Am who made me that enables me to do what I do. Jesus. The Master Builder.

Rock and roll

A well known portion of scripture talks about how the wise man builds his house on a rock – Jesus (figuratively) – and the foolish man builds it on the sand. In a cheesy sense: my sandcastle has crashed down, and now it’s time to rock and roll.

There is assurance in Jesus. There is strength in Jesus. There is hope to carry on in Jesus. There is restoration because of Jesus. There is an un-breaking in the safety of the Master Builder: Jesus.