ApplePie was wearing it when I first met her. I complimented her unique bracelet and she told me a friend made it to remind her that she may be broken, but she's ok. We talked about the significance of that in each of our lives and went on with the day.
If I remember correctly, I was cooking my won't-stay-single-for-long vodka cream pasta and we discussed the proper way to cut feta for salad. But I digress.
Fast forward a couple years. (Or has it been only one?)
I opened the package that was waiting on my bed when I returned from my Atlanta getaway, and there it was. The broken bracelet. For me.
Because more than ever before in my life, I need to remember that though I'm broken, I'm ok.
I still cling to His promise of wholeness. Nothing missing. Nothing broken. But in the meantime, I'm becoming more okay with my own brokenness.