Shattered

I love how when I was in England, people used the word "shattered" to describe being exhausted. Such a descriptive word!

Today, I am shattered ... but not without hope.  I don't think I've ever had more happen in 24 hours EVER in my life.  (Well, a couple things come close in extremes - but nothing in sheer amount combined with extremes!)  I have to admit it makes me reach back into the ministry days and think that I must be doing something right to have this much chaos erupt.  I don't know if that's solid thinking any more - I'd have to go study again - and right now, I'm too shattered.

I remember my grandmother's poem ... One Shattered Splinter.  In the poem, she receives a gift from God (a crystal cup?) and because it wasn't what she wanted or expected, throws it down into shattered splinters.  After realizing what she had done, she picked up a splinter and began to write. I'll have to find that and post it.

Photo from Havering Park in the Secret Garden with Imogen Heap, Clear Village and the Garden Angels.