The nail in the spindle.

The staircase conceals its brokenness. The fifth spindle from the left. At first glance, you may miss how it wobbles and spins.

Just last night, a friend casually mentioned her affinity toward that broken spindle. I hadn’t considered it before. I had only noted yet another repair. I hadn’t seen the way that spindle, in its brokenness, represented more.

I hadn’t appreciated the way it continues to hold steadfast to its anchoring nail regardless of the tugging and twirling of little hands seeking amusement and levity.

Or the way it serves as a reminder to guests in our one-hundred-year-old home that this is a place where we welcome imperfect people into an imperfect space. After all, true, authentic, Kingdom-seeking community can only be forged through the revealing of brokenness.

I’m honored to finish this story over on Amber Haine’s site.  Amber is one of my favorite writers and people. She is as authentic as they come. Her memoir Wild in the Hollow moved me deeply. It’s raw and thought-provoking. Her story is different than mine, yet, in so many ways it is so similar. If you haven’t already, grab a copy and make time to slowly digest Amber’s beautiful, poetic words.