When the paint chips away






To fall from glory.


Degeneration: 1. a lowering of effective power, vitality, or essential quality to an enfeebled and worsened kind or state.

2. intellectual, moral, or artistic decline


Broken: 1. forcibly separated into two or more pieces; fractured. 2. Having been violated. 3. Being in a state of disarray; disordered


This is our world. There is no other state this side of glory. From the moment we are born we are subject to decay. The moment a flower buds, a butterfly emerges from its cocoon, a house is built, a new invention created…the moment of birth signifies the moment of degeneration. The entire earth testifies of this. This aging planet is a weeping shadow of the glory of it’s birth. Our souls testify to this as well.

There is always something falling apart.

And yet, there is a strange beauty within that which is broken. Why are we drawn to a car crash, to natural disasters, to ancient ruins, to tears?

Because there is something real there. The facade of “everything is okay” has melted or been stripped away, and what remains is something we all relate to: everything is NOT okay. And here,in the rubble, the rust, the chipping paint; in this place of raw honesty, lies the beauty. And beyond that, the hope. For it is only when something is broken that it can be remade. It is only when we get honest about our falling apart pieces that we can glory in what is to come.


“If I find in myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world.” – C.S. Lewis

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