When you were little, and you thought you were the center of everything that happened in your life, there was a pride in your heart. You were brave, you thought you've known everything. When you saw a beautiful vase on the edge of a table, you were captivated. Your parents had warned you about this vase, but you could hardly remember and anyway, you were too little to remember.
You thought, you had to hold that vase, you wanted to play with it, and you were pretty sure you could handle it. So you started to walked with your little feet and since no one was around, you got your confidence. The closer you got to the vase, the more excited you became. And boy, were you happy to feel the cold ceramic feeling of the vase. You giggled and started to touch the vase with both of your little tiny hands. It felt good and new and funny to you so you kept touching, each touch made your smile grew wider.
Soon enough you knew you had to bring the whole vase down so you could hug it, rolled it on the floor, played it with your teddy bear. So you held the vase and pulled the vase off the table, slowly. It's gonna be tough and you knew it, but somehow you kept pulling anyway. You were still laughing half way through, until the vase lost it balance and it was too heavy for you and it shattered right in front of you.
You were overwhelmed by the thundering sound of the broken vase. You were perplexed by the view in front of you, and then you started to realize what had happened. Your vase had gone. You had nothing to be rolled on the floor, or to be played with your teddy. What was so beautiful then had been a chaos in front of you. You moved a little in the hope of good things to happen. Maybe if you moved, you could be happier, you didn't know what to do, so you just walked blindly. Little did you know, the broken vase had shattered and turned into many sharp parts. And you stumped on one of them.
A first hint of pain felt through your right foot. You looked down and saw red water leaked through your toes. You sobbed, but no one heard you. So you cried harder, and still when no one came to save you, you screamed, you wanted help, you regretted all the things you did, you wished the vase was not broken, but you didn't know how so you just cried and cried. Your mom heard you, she rushed to where you were and found you with blood.
She exhaled and came close to you in panic. Between scolds and worried, you cried louder, both because of the pain and because you knew you had done something wrong. You didn't understand what she was yelling or mumbling, but you knew the tone were not friendly. You were really sad because one way or another, you knew she was upset, but she moved you away from the vase, even though you had been struggling to take any part of the vase that you could hold on to.
But she took the sharp part of the vase from your foot and took care of your wound. Your cheeks were red and your eyes were swollen. You couldn't hold your sobs. She left you for a moment and cleaned up the vase. She took it all and threw away the vase. You knew it. You screamed and cried again. She came back to you and hold you tight, whispering some calming words, and said something like, 'I told you not to go near the vase, honey!' and another 'ssh' while panting your head.
You still cried because of the sadness. You didn't know what she was talking about because you were too little to understand. All you knew was, the vase should not had been broken, your foot should not had been wounded, and you should had been happy. She kept calming you. She knew one day you'd understand that it was the right thing to do to throw the vase, to kept you away from the vase. And sure enough, You do understand better now. You wonder how you could have been so stupid to think you could handle a vase that big. And you thanked your mother to help you when you screwed. You look at your foot now and there it is, between your toes, a light scar from the sharp-part of the vase that cut you. You smile. You love that scar, because it brings a memory from your childhood. You touch it, but it doesn't hurt anymore. You've learned your lesson because ever since you got that cut, you were so careful in handling vases.
I believe you guys can learn something from my story above. Sometimes in life, we did irrational, childish things. We thought we knew something, or someone, but we didn't. We ignored our friends' advices, parents' warnings, and even God's signs that tell us not to keep going. Instead we made ourselves believe that those advices and warnings are wrong. We denied God's signs and made up our own signs of approval from God. Then things started to go wrong. We started to realize we were wrong, and they were right. We were left heartbroken, sad, and wounded. But God, as our friends and family did not and will not leave us. They were right there with us, giving us their best support.
And that's how you learn the hard way.
Why am I telling you this boring, usual, nothing-new-to-learn event?
Because I broke my vase. And it really hurts. Only it's not my toes that wounded, but my heart. And I don't want the same thing happen to you. So listen to His voices. Sometimes He uses your friends and family to warn you, to save you from a broken heart. So the vase didn't have to be broken. And your toes wouldn't have to get cut.
You thought, you had to hold that vase, you wanted to play with it, and you were pretty sure you could handle it. So you started to walked with your little feet and since no one was around, you got your confidence. The closer you got to the vase, the more excited you became. And boy, were you happy to feel the cold ceramic feeling of the vase. You giggled and started to touch the vase with both of your little tiny hands. It felt good and new and funny to you so you kept touching, each touch made your smile grew wider.
Soon enough you knew you had to bring the whole vase down so you could hug it, rolled it on the floor, played it with your teddy bear. So you held the vase and pulled the vase off the table, slowly. It's gonna be tough and you knew it, but somehow you kept pulling anyway. You were still laughing half way through, until the vase lost it balance and it was too heavy for you and it shattered right in front of you.
You were overwhelmed by the thundering sound of the broken vase. You were perplexed by the view in front of you, and then you started to realize what had happened. Your vase had gone. You had nothing to be rolled on the floor, or to be played with your teddy. What was so beautiful then had been a chaos in front of you. You moved a little in the hope of good things to happen. Maybe if you moved, you could be happier, you didn't know what to do, so you just walked blindly. Little did you know, the broken vase had shattered and turned into many sharp parts. And you stumped on one of them.
A first hint of pain felt through your right foot. You looked down and saw red water leaked through your toes. You sobbed, but no one heard you. So you cried harder, and still when no one came to save you, you screamed, you wanted help, you regretted all the things you did, you wished the vase was not broken, but you didn't know how so you just cried and cried. Your mom heard you, she rushed to where you were and found you with blood.
She exhaled and came close to you in panic. Between scolds and worried, you cried louder, both because of the pain and because you knew you had done something wrong. You didn't understand what she was yelling or mumbling, but you knew the tone were not friendly. You were really sad because one way or another, you knew she was upset, but she moved you away from the vase, even though you had been struggling to take any part of the vase that you could hold on to.
But she took the sharp part of the vase from your foot and took care of your wound. Your cheeks were red and your eyes were swollen. You couldn't hold your sobs. She left you for a moment and cleaned up the vase. She took it all and threw away the vase. You knew it. You screamed and cried again. She came back to you and hold you tight, whispering some calming words, and said something like, 'I told you not to go near the vase, honey!' and another 'ssh' while panting your head.
You still cried because of the sadness. You didn't know what she was talking about because you were too little to understand. All you knew was, the vase should not had been broken, your foot should not had been wounded, and you should had been happy. She kept calming you. She knew one day you'd understand that it was the right thing to do to throw the vase, to kept you away from the vase. And sure enough, You do understand better now. You wonder how you could have been so stupid to think you could handle a vase that big. And you thanked your mother to help you when you screwed. You look at your foot now and there it is, between your toes, a light scar from the sharp-part of the vase that cut you. You smile. You love that scar, because it brings a memory from your childhood. You touch it, but it doesn't hurt anymore. You've learned your lesson because ever since you got that cut, you were so careful in handling vases.
I believe you guys can learn something from my story above. Sometimes in life, we did irrational, childish things. We thought we knew something, or someone, but we didn't. We ignored our friends' advices, parents' warnings, and even God's signs that tell us not to keep going. Instead we made ourselves believe that those advices and warnings are wrong. We denied God's signs and made up our own signs of approval from God. Then things started to go wrong. We started to realize we were wrong, and they were right. We were left heartbroken, sad, and wounded. But God, as our friends and family did not and will not leave us. They were right there with us, giving us their best support.
And that's how you learn the hard way.
Why am I telling you this boring, usual, nothing-new-to-learn event?
Because I broke my vase. And it really hurts. Only it's not my toes that wounded, but my heart. And I don't want the same thing happen to you. So listen to His voices. Sometimes He uses your friends and family to warn you, to save you from a broken heart. So the vase didn't have to be broken. And your toes wouldn't have to get cut.
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