I broke my mother’s favorite vase when I was 10 years old. I remember the moment it fell to the floor. It was as if everything was happening in slow motion. I tried desperately to catch it, but my hands just weren’t quick enough.
There it lay on the floor in four broken pieces. My heart sank. All I could think about was my mom discovering the vase and scolding me for playing in her room. I knew I shouldn’t have been in there, but I wanted to try on some of her jewelry and thought I could sneak in and play dress-up without her knowing. She was surely going to know now.
As I looked at the pieces, I remembered a time when my mom used superglue to fix the arm on a figurine, so I decided I would do the same thing to fix my mistake. I did a pretty good job at it too. There were a few drips of glue on the outside of the vase, but mostly, you couldn’t tell it had even been broken.
I carefully positioned the vase back where it always sat and prayed she wouldn’t find out. Later that day, guilt got the best of me. I couldn’t bear the thought of trying to hide something I had done wrong any longer. It was eating at me with every minute that passed. I knew what I needed to do, so I went into the room where my mom was sewing and confessed the whole thing. I was punished, but the guilt was gone and I was able to breathe once again.
To this day, my mom has that broken vase. Most people would never notice the cracks, but they are there. If you hold it up to the light or try to fill it with water, you can see all the imperfections and mistakes I made while trying to glue it back together. What once was broken, was made even more beautiful with cracks and dried glue, because now that vase has a story to tell.
Some say that I’m broken. They look at my past mistakes in life and even at the fact that I’m living with multiple sclerosis, and all they seem to see are cracks and imperfections. But the most amazing thing happens when you hold me up to the light. You may see my broken places…but, you will also see what makes me beautiful, because in those cracks are the stories of overcoming and standing strong.
Because of those imperfections, I am who I am today…broken bits and all. Light comes pouring out of the gapping holes. My scars tell my story. My MS scars may be invisible to the world, but their effects are made real as I struggle to get through the day. I may not be able to walk more than a few steps on my own, I may not be able to change the sheets on my bed without a fight, I may not be able to hold onto my coffee cup without using two hands…but I keep fighting anyway. I push on. I keep going. Sometimes through a sea of tears, but I keep going.
You have broken places and cracks too. Your mistakes and hurts are real, as well as your disability, but so is your beauty. Let your beauty shine through you and let your story inspire others. Just because you have cracks doesn’t mean you are worthless. You are not broken…you are a container of life, love, brilliance and beauty. Let those things spill out today.
The story in your scars may be just what someone needs to hear in order to keep going.