Our chips and cracks make us who we are. They are the scars of battles long fought. They tell stories of how love won over once again. Our vessels are resilient and beautiful and just the way God wants us to be. It is through our brokenness that the light of God can illuminate our lives, filling every crevice with abundant grace and overflowing mercy.

When we strive to encounter the Divine through merciful works, we experience a supernatural encounter and are moved towards a higher level of compassion and empathy. This is not to say that good works ought to emanate solely from a higher being, but rather, from an internal desire to be benevolent based on principle.

But within these losses, both physical and emotional, I learned the difference between being alone and having perfect solitude; between feeling lonely and embracing a sacrosanct silence.  It was definably in these moments of silence that I heard the voice of reason say, “this is not the end.”

The problem, first of all, is that we began our search feeling empty and incomplete. We think it’s because we just haven’t met the right person yet, and so, we embark on a journey of finding our missing piece to the puzzle only to discover that it is disproportionate and doesn’t fit at all.