He says I could tear up a steel ball.

My husband often says I could tear up a steel ball. Well, I simply like to know how things work. What makes them tick. I have trouble turning something loose if I haven't figured it out. 

I had my Roomba floor vacuum only a few days when my husband came  home to find it in pieces on the table. "What are you doing? Have you torn it up already?"

 
I have not! This is a planned tear down. It needed a little TLC. 
We bought it used and it needed a little cleaning.  I noticed it wasn't rolling smoothly across the floors. I removed the roller ball on the front, sanded with fine grit sandpaper and it's smooth as a baby's behind.

"You better know where all those screws go," he said. Again, I'm an old hand at removing things and I'm too OCD to do it all willy-nilly.. please, I know what I'm doing. 

I actually tear things apart quite often and sometime not deliberately. 

I will admit it seems like I break things more than most. I don't know what it is? I just have something in my hand and bam! It's broken. Don says that I'm not careful, I think I'm careful.

I think things are not made to last as they should be. 

There was the RV refrigerator door handle. Broke it. We were camping, I was opening the refrigerator while getting dinner ready and the handle snapped off in my hand. That RV was almost ten years old and of course they no longer made that model of handle. It only took four months to find the correct replacement. We had ordered two different handles thinking each was the correct replacement, only to end up sending them back. Don decided to go to the store, 300 miles to our south, to assure he had the correct handle. 

Ever try to pull an RV 300 miles without a working handle on the refrigerator? It gets complicated. 
My gray-haired "MacGyver" rigged that door with a piece of cord, a short board and a bungee tie to the surrounding cabinets. I was amazed! Although he kind of developed a little "attitude" while doing it. We drove down to the beach for a few days, ran by and picked up the handle. When he got it on the refrigerator, he dared me to touch it. Seriously, he didn't let me touch the refrigerator door until I followed his little tutorial. He has issues. 

There was the emergency brake on his truck. Yep, broke that. Wait.. that would be two trucks. Both of his last two Dodge trucks. I pulled the emergency brake to release and broke the handle on both. He used a nylon string on the old truck for the last year he drove it. Just pull the string and the brake released. Apparently, those things are very flimsy made. Seriously, nothing is made to last anymore.   

I replaced three coffee carafes on my coffee maker before I decided maybe glass was not for me. Now I have a nice stainless steel one.
What I can't figure out is why "breaking" is almost always on my husbands things. It is not like I do it on purpose. It just happens- like the hand brake on his bicycle. He rode the bike for two days while camping. I get on his bike for five minutes and you know it! I snapped that bad boy right off. I figure I saved him from sure injury on a ride down a hillside somewhere. I believe he needed a new cable before I rode his stupid bike. I may very well have been set up. 

Then, I was cutting grass and this happened. Yeah, that would explain the gaps and high spots in the yard. 

He came home and saw the blade on the front porch and said, "you did what? Who does that? What did you hit?"
I hit nothing, okay. 

I seem to have a gift, that's all. He put the bottom blade back on the mower after buying another nut and fitting because they were apparently somewhere in the yard. I am guessing the nut may have been loose, who knows?  He may or may not have been muttering under his breath the entire time he repaired it. 

I seem to recall my precious mother having the same "penchant" for accidents. Unlike myself, mama was not physically strong. She would think she was going to lift something and then get herself in a bind. Once she lifted the boat trailer (with the boat on it) she wanted to cut grass under it. She lifted, took a few steps and could not hold it. She dropped that hitch and it slide all the way down her leg. It left a nasty ten inch long gouge. I cleaned the wound and bandaged her up. I made her promise she would call me before any boats were moved.    

In her last few years on earth, mama's body was riddled with osteoporosis and dementia. Her body was small now, fragile and broken.  I could easily lift and move her wherever I needed. She would say, "you are so strong. I just can't believe it." 

There's a lesson in there you know? In this world when something breaks we throw it out. Discarding whatever we deem useless. We see "broken" as the end. 
God approaches brokenness differently. He allows great mercy and grace when we are broken, He binds us up. Then other times, things in us need to be broken for us to fulfil our purpose- pride, selfishness, sinful habits, hard hearts. 

But for Jesus, this would not be possible.

When breaking bread Jesus said, "this is my body, which is broken for you" 

God longs for us to come to Him where he can restore us. He gives new life from brokenness, every time. I pray we all surrender to God what is broken in us. His grace is sufficient.