Busted Right Down the Middle

Guest post by author Lauri Lemke Thompson

“Then I will ever sing in praise of your name.”  Psalm 61:8a (NIV). 

The ceramic wall hanging depicting birds caught my eye in the store. I gravitate toward songbirds; they seem happy, and their flashes of color wow me. Sometimes even their names entertain: tufted titmouse, indigo bunting, black-capped chickadee. The uplifting lyrics from an old hymn on the plaque clinched the deal: “This is my song, Praising my Saviour all the day long.” I took this and its companion piece home with me, and the two looked great in my kitchen, adding a cheerful personal touch.

Until our roof needed replacement. There was no mistaking that the workmen had arrived early that first morning. We were still in bed when kerplunk, drag, kerplunk, drag. Then pound, pound, pound. We sprang from our beds to see what was the matter! The kerplunking was the worst; the workers were dropping big packages of shingles on our housetop. The house shook with each thud. As the morning wore on, we became accustomed to the noise and periodic shaking.

Until we weren’t. This was a new sound: the shattering of – of what? This was coming from inside the house – the kitchen. One of my two plaques laid broken on the granite countertop. An ugly jagged crack split it diagonally into two pieces. The imaginary chirping of my vivid birds and singing of my cherished lyrics had been silenced. 

I snapped a photo of the broken plaque in case we wanted to ask the roofers to pay for the damage, fearing we may find additional damage before the job completion. It did not come to that, but as I went to toss the pieces of that decor into the trashcan days later, I gave the colorful shiny ceramic a final glance.

Then the irony came to me. The plaque read “Praising my Saviour all the day long.” Can I praise my Savior all the day long when a favorite possession is ruined? Much more importantly, how about when a particular hope or dream of mine is busted right down the middle, or when a promising relationship fractures? Can my heart still whistle a happy tune? 

When such things happen, has His character changed? Is His grace any less amazing? His love for me in any way lessened? No, no, and no. 

Lord, I am sad at times – disappointed, feeling a loss, hurting. But chirp? Chirp, chirp. Chirp, chirp, chirp. Praise You, God, in the good and the bad. All the day long.

A Wisconsin native, Lauri Lemke Thompson appreciates living in the lovely Ozark mountains in Branson, Missouri. She is active in Christian Women’s Connection (Stonecroft) and the Ozarks Chapter of the American Christian Writers. Her two books, Hitting Pause and Pressing Forward, are collections of her columns, articles, and devotions. Her bimonthly column appears in the Branson Globe newspaper.