How the mighty have fallen

Yesterday I was wandering the ruins of a Roman city that was destroyed by an earthquake in the year 732. It had an impressive street of pillars and just around the corner, a temple. The pillars on this temple were much thicker than the pillars of the street. I looked at the bases and a remaining broken pillar and marvelled at its size. As I finished at the temple and rounded the corner, I suddenly realised that all the temple pillars were still there. They lay where they fell almost 1300 years ago. The ground still bears the imprint of massive marble pillars thumping down.

Those who are excavating the sight have left the pillars there. It appears as though they are left deliberately.

As I continued to wander around, I observed that some of the other fallen pillars are back in their places, some of them are in the restoration area lying out on the ground, and others have been left where they fell. That got me thinking.

The earthquake of 732 was obviously a fairly major event. The city was taken out completely. Now that they are restoring the area, they have decisions to make about how to treat each part of the excavation.

When we have had a major event take us out in some way, we can approach the debris left behind from three angles. Some things, we can put back in place. Some will remain where they lie as a testament to what happened. Others will be moved to an area where they can be restored and healed before being seen and appreciated again.

The trick is to figure out which is which. At first, when we’re hurt, everything seems to be damaged and out of place, but as we work with the mess, some things will be able to resume with a little checking and a little dusting to make sure that the foundation is clear and this pillar will be able to stand again without being propped up.

To see a pillar standing after a shaking of great magnitude is a marvel, and so it is with us. When we can pick up a piece of what fell over and display it despite the fact that all the surrounding pillars are absent, others will look on and see a thing of beauty beginning to form once more.

Some of our stories would be diminished if we just stood them back up again. To see the impact of where those pillars fell and the weight that they carried can be more powerful than the tidied up, sanitised version of the story. If they lifted the temple pillars and levelled the ground out again, I would have walked past without pondering the impact of that earthquake so long ago. Everywhere around this excavation has been levelled out and built up after the event – so much so that you wouldn’t even know that it happened. But in this one spot they have left a vivid picture of the impact of that day.

There was one street near the temple where they unearthed a lot of pieces that are still lying where they were found. That area hasn’t been sorted yet. That street, with so many broken pieces, just looks like a mess. They haven’t got as far as making a decision on those things yet. It also has an impact, but a completely different one. That street cries, “stay away, I’m not ready for viewing yet. Do not walk my way, I am still broken.” And that is okay.

Then off to the side, away from the map and the descriptions, lie pieces that don’t fit. Pieces that are out of place. Pieces that are broken. Pieces that will be restored.

I think that’s a beautiful picture of our broken pieces after a major event has occurred. We have pieces that we hold and wonder if they’ll ever have a place in our lives again. We have pieces that are broken, and we need someone with a skilled eye and a gentle hand to work alongside us bringing restoration. These pieces need to be removed from public scrutiny for a time as they are cared for and healed.

It takes time and a skilled eye to recognise which pieces are which. If we leave all the pieces as a testament, then we’ll end up looking like the messy street. When we are still completely broken, we will send out messages that demonstrate our brokenness and will push others away. We may do that quite unintentionally. Most people will naturally give us a wide berth to ensure that we have space to heal. Instinctively others know not to come too close at this stage.

Of course, we may interpret their distance as a negative thing and take offense. That only adds to our brokenness and multiplies the mess.

Where things can’t stand up on their own, it is a good idea to take those pieces to someone who has a heart for restoration. Someone who can help you heal. Someone who knows how to help. That removes you from public scrutiny and creates a safe place for you to sort things at the right pace for you.

The one who helps you may have an eye to identify the one thing that carries the most impact. The part of your story that can be shared with others to help them grasp the enormity of what happened. The one thing that might be more powerful left on display in its place.

Being intentional about what we display and when, will tell a powerful story that makes an impact in the lives of others.

All of us have major events that wipe us out from time to time. Some of us work through those events and come to a place where we can share something of our journey as an encouragement to others. Others of us are still broken or remain in process.

Perhaps you can find some wisdom in the story of the pillars. Start with one thing at a time. Some things, we can put back in place. Some will remain where they lie as a testament to what happened. Others will be moved to an area where they can be restored and healed before being seen and appreciated again.

The trick is to figure out which is which, and often that takes time.