Shiny Pennies

*Here’s my obligatory, “oh crap you guys, I haven’t blogged in months and months, my bad, let me catch you up” intro. Briefly, succinctly, we still love living in Bend, we’ve found a darling, humble and unassuming church here that we adore, and oh also, I’m pregnant with a sweet girl whom we are naming Nora, short for Eleanor, and she will be here in approximately eight weeks. There you go. Moving right along*

If we are friends on social media, you may have seen my post earlier this morning about how I’ve been frantic lately about all of the “things” we want to make sure we have for Nora by the time she arrives, but how the Holy Spirit has taken the time to gently remind me that more than the Rock A Roo or the Solly Wrap, what I want most for my daughter is to love all the people with a great big love.

My favorite book in the whole world is Carry On, Warrior by Glennon Doyle Melton. The message of the collection of essays Glennon shares in this gem of a book is simple, and by simple I mean it can be boiled down to a few short phrases all the while knocking you over like a ton of bricks. These are those phrases:

We Can Do Hard Things.

We Belong To Each Other.


I decided I wanted to re-read this book in the few weeks we have left before Nora is born because I wanted a heart refresher. Not even halfway through the first chapter, big, hot tears started welling in my eyes and I was overcome with the desire to be broken. Not once, not twice, I long to be broken continuously. It hurts to be broken. It hurts a lot, but when I’m cracked and tattered and torn, it creates extra room for more love to seep in. It creates extra room for more people to seep in. It creates extra room for Jesus to seep in.

Being a full time homemaker, I’m by myself a lot, so when I pray, it’s almost always out loud. I began to say “God, please break me. Break me a lot. A whole lot. Please help me get rid of all the garbage and bullshit to make room for all the love and all the people.” Sometimes the cat looks at me sideways when I pray out loud, but she’ll be fine. Anyways, as the oh so holy use of the word “bullshit” was still hanging in the air, God reminded me about shiny pennies.

You see, about six weeks ago, I was in the middle of this Bible study with some wonderful gals at church, when the Lord gave me a word about shiny pennies and how he really has no interest in them at all, and prefers us to be raw. I got the general idea of what He was saying and while I appreciated it deeply, I didn’t pursue it much further. Until now.

When He whispered that reminder to me again this morning, I allowed him to expound on it a bit more this time. This is what He poured in through the cracks and tears in my heart.

Shiny pennies are shiny because they haven’t been anywhere. They haven’t done anything. They haven’t met anyone. Old, worn, tired pennies? Those pennies have seen the darkness. Those pennies have been dropped, stepped on, forgotten, tossed aside. Those pennies have been carried by countless souls, equally broken, stepped on and tossed aside.

I don’t know about you, but when I’m in dire straights and we just need some dadgum eggs at the grocery store, I’m completely elated to find those pennies in my wallet, and I don’t give a damn whether they’re shiny or not. They are perfect. They are exactly what I need. They are such a treasure.

Sure, pennies are shiny when they’re born, but they don’t stay that way and they aren’t meant to. The more we allow ourselves to crack and shatter and break, the more room we have for all the love and all the people.

Even when we feel ugly and worthless and tossed aside, we are such a treasure. People are such a treasure. That’s what I want Nora to know.


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