I knew they were there, but being away from home and church and relationships and responsibilities have brought them more sharply into focus. Busyness distracts us from a lot of glaring things, I’ve found. Constant activity means I don’t spend as much time asking God to search me, know me, and bring them to light. A full calendar allowed for them to be pushed down, swept under the rug.

Fragments.

I remember reading about the concept of fragmentation in Francis Schaeffer’s How Should We Then Live with high school sophomores in Classical Conversations. I’ve read the book three times now (once for each child of mine) and while I still can’t do it justice with a thorough summary, what Schaeffer basically says is this: Watch the changing trends in art, music, and culture and they will show you the changing trends in worldview. Classical to Renaissance period art is more realistic reflecting a certain unity; Modern period art is often surreal and fragmented.

Think Vermeer’s Milkmaid versus Kandinsky’s Composition VII . Think Bach versus Stravinsky.

When I take a look inside myself, I see lots of Kandinsky and Stravinsky rather than Vermeer and Bach. And it’s discouraging after all these years in Christ – that though parts of me are so free, parts are still enslaved. That there are pieces of confidence and security, but still pieces of insecurity and intimidation.

One moment I’m worshipping and the very next moment I’m worrying.

Parts of me are at peace and full of compassion. Other parts are agitated, angry, and incredulous.

One day I’m rejoicing over friendships and kindredness. The next I’m despairing over perceived rejection. I’ll turn 50 in less than a year, and I still experience angst over whether or not a 25 year old likes me. On Monday I’m a grown woman, but on Tuesday I’m just a little girl.

One moment I’m weeping over the grace and forgiveness granted to me on the cross, and the next moment I’m shocked by the sin of my neighbor and exalting myself in comparison.

Fragments: parts broken off, detached, or incomplete.

Fragmented art and music reflect the disjointedness and chaos of a world trying to find meaning within itself, when meaning can only really be found in the One sustaining it all by His Word.

So, wholeness has been my constant plea – a redeeming, healing, and incorporating of the shards of the old life into the new – and I’ve been pretty hard on myself for not having arrived there yet. Because if the fullness of deity dwelt in Christ, and He now fully dwells inside of me, then what in the world is my problem? Why am I not yet whole, full, unified in spirit, soul, mind, and body?

Last week in chapel we sang Andrew Peterson’s Is He Worthy? (If you haven’t heard it yet, don’t wait another minute. Really. And definitely check out the Shane & Shane version.) It was only the second time for me to hear and sing the song, so I was not expecting the lyrics that I found myself repeating:

Is anyone worthy? Is anyone whole?

When I saw the word whole on the screen, I saw the word I’d been writing in my journal and praying for myself for a very long time. I also knew the answer to the questions.

No.

No one is worthy. No one is whole.

Except for Christ.

The tears of worship came streaming immediately, and yet along with them the embarrassment of the mascara that was likely running down my face. Eve’s shame in the midst of God’s perfect love and acceptance.

Fragments.

Prior to chapel, I’d been sitting in my New Testament class, listening to my professor read and explain the book of 2 Corinthians. Here’s what I was hearing:

Not that we are sufficient in ourselves to claim anything as coming from us, but our sufficiency is from God… (2 Cor. 3:5)

Now the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom. And we all, with unveiled face, beholding the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another. For this comes from the Lord who is the Spirit. (2 Cor. 3: 17-18)

For we who live are always being given over to death for Jesus’ sake, so that the life of Jesus also may be manifested in our mortal flesh. (2 Cor. 4:11)

So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day. (2 Cor. 4:16)

I was especially encouraged when Robert and I joined in on a Friday afternoon “Coffee Break” and got to hear that very professor humbly admit to what appears to be deeper and more pervasive sin even as he matures in Christ. I have prayed to know the depths of my sin, so as to be more in awe of grace. I suppose I am getting my answer.

One of the really amazing things about being in Christ is that we are made whole at the moment of our justification, and we are also being made whole as we depend on Him day by day. Our status is immediately holy and complete, but we are also becoming holy and complete as we walk with Him and yield to His Spirit. Colossians explains the mystery pretty well:

Therefore, as you received Christ Jesus the Lord, so walk in him, rooted and built up in him and established in the faith, just as you were taught, abounding in thanksgiving. (Col. 2: 6-7)

For in Him all the fullness of Deity dwells in bodily form, and in Him you have been made complete… (Col. 2: 9-10)

I love what Mrs. Campbell says to Katy in Stepping Heavenward:

“But do you see, with equal clearness, that your sanctification must be as fully His gift, as your salvation is?”

I’m still praying for Christ’s fullness to be manifest in me, praying to be made whole and complete, asking that He work transformation in me for His glory and the benefit of others. I am requesting to be filled with His Spirit in a marked way, but I am also resting more in the fact that He is accomplishing these things in me – just a little slower than I’d like.

I really have nothing against Kandinsky or Stravinsky, and I do love a stroll through an art museum and a night at the symphony, but I’m longing for that Vermeer and Bach-like unity and beauty within. I’m learning, though, that it requires trust in the Artist-Composer who promises to complete every good work He starts and make all things beautiful in time.