The Weakest Reed

He will not crush the weakest reed or put out a flickering candle.


As a kid, when I imagined telling the story of my life, this is not  the kind of story I wanted to tell. I imagined something more romantic, definitely adventurous and preferably exotic.  My life, in all the most vividly colored musings of my childhood, would surely be composed of glorious and glorify-able circumstances that would, of course a bit later, fascinate or enthrall a reader.

 Instead, this is mostly a story about being a wife and a mother.  Did you ever notice that’s where most good stories end?  The happy ending is the wedding or the birth.  Rarely does a song,  movie or book tell you what happens after that.  No one wants to stick around for that part.  Those parts of life are the definition of domestic, after all.  Just plain, old, ordinary life.  Not a story thought to be worthy of telling.

 In the world’s view, nothing sets my life apart in a way that will be recognized as extraordinary by historians or even my own great-great grandchildren.  Perhaps this has been the hardest for me to accept of all:  What I wanted was to be special.  What I have been is ordinary.  And, what has been the worst part of being ordinary is that I haven’t even done it all that well.  I’ve been restless, vexed, anxious, angry, surly, despaired, ashamed, dejected and just not generally the most cheery person around as I’ve come to accept the life I’ve been given instead of the life I always dreamed about. Plain, old, ordinary life broke me.

But this blog is not my pity party.  It’s a place to remind myself and others that being obscure, ordinary and broken is exactly where God wants me to be.  To consider that perhaps these are the qualities that actually make us most usable and valuable to Him.  

I am telling this story because it’s worth telling.  Specifically because I am not special in the world’s eyes, it is worth telling.  Humans tell stories because in each one of them, in some way or another, we hear our own story or maybe the story we imagine for ourselves in our deepest heart-of-hearts.  And when we do, we’re a little less alone.  Or we understand ourselves better.  Or we get to imagine what might have happened if…..If that were us, if we did that.  Because I’m just an ordinary person, because I’m no more special than any other, I am telling my story in case someone out there might hear something familiar and find some comfort

 All praise to God, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. God is our merciful Father and the source of all comfort. He comforts us in all our troubles so that we can comfort others. When they are troubled, we will be able to give them the same comfort God has given us.

2 Corinthians 1:3-4.



  1. Elodie, yes, this is a story worth telling. Just beautiful. Love how you write here, sister.

    • Thank you! He’s not done with me yet and I’m beginning to believe the story He wrote for me might, in fact, be better than the one I wrote for myself. ;)

  2. Elodie,
    I saw you we’re bing here to your new spot and can’t find a way to sign up for your posts as emails. My reader is just not good and would like yours as emails. You going to have a sign up for those?


    • Argh! I’m trying to fix this. There should be an email subscription widget on the sidebar of the new site now. Please let me know if you can’t find it! And thank you for following me here, too! Very grateful for your support.

  3. Oh wait I see it now! I was on mobile. Signing up!
    Hey I think you would be a great part of the vision God gave me via email connections – call them Wanderings. Readers sharing hearts. You can check it out here:

    Would love for you to share in that project!!
    – Heather

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