The Circumcised Heart

As I cut out the last batch of tea buns, I realized just how troubled and agitated I was about the situation. I thought, Oh dear God, if I feel like this, how sad you must be. Your heart must be broken. With a heart that felt like it was breaking, I worked quickly and efficiently to finish cutting the tea buns. The glass went up and down over the dough, cutting out each little circle. Sschwah-sschwah-sschwah. I felt disassociated from my actions.

Pop!

The sound startled me back to reality, as I again became present in what I was doing. When I realized that the glass was broken, I became upset. Now I’ve done it. I’ve broken the glass. The buns are ruined! This is what happens when I let my mind wander. Now I’ll have to throw it all out. What a waste! As I cleaned up the mess, I consoled myself, realizing that the buns on the first baking sheet were edible, as it was approximately a meter and a half from where I cut out the last batch; those in the cutting area and on the second sheet had to be discarded.

Holding the broken glass in my right hand while opening the garbage bin with my left, preparing to throw it in, I was startled to find that the glass was intact except for a perfectly heart-shaped hole in its side. Its rim was a complete circle. Feeling its fragility, and its strength, I was shocked to find that when I washed off the batter and dried the glass, it remained intact.

I felt God’s presence; it was as if he was saying to me, Marilyn, my heart, too, is broken. It is broken in two. Beyond my rational understanding, God was communicating something to me. God didn’t feel the same gut-wrenching pain that I was feeling, did he? He certainly knew exactly how I felt—I knew that. But why would he communicate his emotional pain to me in this way?

As I threw the dough into the garbage bin being careful not to cut my hands, I saw two large pieces of glass that, on closer inspection, fit together perfectly to fill the heart shape in the glass. Carefully washing the flour mixture off the pieces, I could not help but think, Yes, God’s heart is broken in two.

I could not throw away the broken glass and the two pieces that had burst from it, but I was unsure of their significance, if any. My inclination was to scold myself for using a wine glass as a bun cutter. I also wondered if this was a sign from God or some other spirit; according to Matthew 12:39 and 16:4, an evil and adulterous generation seeks for a sign, but no sign will be given except that of the prophet Jonah. I concluded that no other spirit would want me to believe that God’s heart was broken, and I knew that he cared enough for me to convey this message to me. I was not looking for a sign, although I was fervently praying. After all, I was only making tea buns.

When Stephen came home, I showed him the glass. He was speechless, but then he said jokingly, “We’d better not show this to anyone, or the next thing there will be a Church of the Broken Heart,” which was great comic relief. We did not have much time to talk about it since we were invited out for dinner and our hosts lived about a thirty-minute drive away.

I was not looking for a sign from God nor did I will it into being. It just happened. I was more bothered about why this would happen to me than whether I felt that God was expecting me to act on it or not. My life was hectic enough. We were in the process of moving. I had already boxed many kitchen items, and that was why my selection of glasses for bun cutting was limited. I put the glass in the back of the cupboard and pushed all thought of it to the back of my mind.

God’s Character

God is perfectly independent of us, yet he is a shield for all who take refuge in him. I have taken refuge in him. He is part of my life, not merely looking on from a distance in heaven. I have learned that, in addition to being the only uncreated Being and perfect love, God is much more. While some theologians may compartmentalize God’s attributes as either communicable (meaning that humans may have similar qualities) or incommunicable (only possible with God), I believe that how we categorize God’s character is unimportant. What is essential is that we understand that God is an active and loving part of our lives—although his nature and attributes vastly differ from ours. Anything that we think we may have in common with him, we do not; he alone is God—we are his beloved creation.