Broken Crayons can still color. That statement has been with me for months. I don’t remember where I first saw this statement: Pinterest, Insta, somewhere generic on the www….. It’s been rolling around in my mind because even though it’s a sassy saying….it’s full of truth. A broken crayon is still a crayon and can fulfill its purpose.

Let me just say that again for my own edification: a broken crayon is *still* a crayon and can *still* fulfill its purpose. Gosh that makes my heart sing.

When my first marriage ended (I’ll call that Divorce 1.0), I felt like a complete failure. Like devastating so. The X (1.0) had a year long affair with my friend, so for all intents and purposes, I had reason….I had justification…But I wanted to fix it—fix us. I wanted the dream….I so believed in that dream—a Charlie and the Chocolate Factory Golden Ticket kind of dream…..what a story of redemption and restoration we’d have. People would line up for blocks to hear us speak on how to save your marriage….we’d be on Oprah….we’d write books…. we’d be an inspiration for others…. man, I loved that dream!

But it didn’t happen.

When I discovered the affair, I felt like a failure as a wife….as a woman….When we could not seem to make restoration work, I felt like a failure all over again. We were church people…all our friends were couples…suddenly, I went from being a part of a group of couples hanging out to the single lady in the corner who doesn’t get invited to the “couple things.” I felt like I had a big Hester Prynne A on my chest and I didn’t even do the freakin A.

I struggled with finding my place amongst my friends and in church. What does a divorced woman do–is she still called? Is she regulated to serving Kool-Aid in the kitchen to the kiddos at Children’s Church. Did I still have a voice? Is it still wanted? What do I do?

Well you know what I did–I ran….ran so far away…. I put that giant light that is Becky in all her glory under an even giant-er basket. No one wants to see that light–the broken light I have to offer. What does a crayon do when they can’t color? This crayon ran and hid. I hid so far that my narrative towards God changed. I went from Every Little Thing is Gonna Be Alright to God abandoned me.

The narrative in my mind became God decided I no longer had a place because I was broken and unusable. My story became I don’t have anything to offer in the spiritual realm because—Hello! I’m a failure at the one thing I was supposed to keep together—my marriage. My narrative changed to God abandoned me and in typical Becky form, I said FINE! If you are going to abandon me, then I am going to abandon you more!! You are no longer part of my day-to-day equation. Lalalalala–I cannot hear you.

But you know what—God didn’t abandon me—I ran from Him because I was scared. Scared of what He was going to say. Scared that people would tell me I didn’t have a place and it would devastate me to the core. So I made my own place where I would be accepted—I made my own way. Honestly, it was (is) a good place and I learned a lot from the last 10 years…but it came with a cost. And here I am in Divorce 2.0. Yep…here again.

I’ve wrestled with the question of God’s role in my life with my therapist, Lilibet and I tell you, there was a freakin LOT of LaLaLaLaLa I can’t hear you going on there…. I was so afraid of what God was going to say. I was afraid He was going to ask me to do the thing I could not do…. My running shoes were laced up ready to fly… But then, I stopped and waited. And this broken crayon thought came across my screen…. And I pondered….

Did you have a box of broken crayons at your house (we called them colors)? I sure did. In a lot of ways, the broken ones were better than that brand new box of 64 sharp crayons. They were more approachable—softer… You could do so much more with them: unwrap them and use them sideways for large area shading, put them in a candle flame to create colored wax creations, put two or three or more together to color a rainbow at the same time… so.many.things. with that box of crayons.

I am a broken crayon–but I’m still a crayon. I can still have a purpose even though I don’t have all my stuff together. My failures do not cancel out my message—my purpose. When God gifted me, he totally knew all the things that make up Becky–he knows my crazy…he knows my sassy…he knows exactly 100% how I am going to fail–and here I am still with gifts, talents, and a purpose.

You may not be put back together as you envisioned, but that’s the beauty. It’s not about being that perfect, sharpened crayon in the pristine Crayola Box….it’s not about being a whole crayon cylinder (raise you hand if you’ve ever tried to tape two crayon pieces together)…. it’s about coloring and coloring and coloring.

Be brave and color beautifully, my friends!

Next : A Grown Up Gap Year