We have a ceramic Mrs. Claus that gets broken every year, and I have no idea how. Normally I take her out of the box, she looks fine, and then crumbles in my hands. This year, I didn't even want to take her out of the box and set her on top of our china cabinet,but my mom insisted. And I'm wondering...
how broken is too broken?
When should we give up and just accept our brokenness? 

I feel very much like Humpty Dumpty these days, lying smashed on the ground. I was never aware before how very much I am a scrambled egg with just pieces of the shell mixed in. That sounds super gross. But really I do wonder, if Humpty Dumpty was lying there, after falling off the wall, and he became very self aware, aware that he was smashed, he was done and he saw all the king's horses racing toward him, would he even have cared if he got run over or stomped on by a few hooves? 
I think at that point, he would've just accepted it.

And I don't mean any of these in an 'emo' way, really I don't. I look at it much as Humpty Dumpty must've looked at it...as fact. Once you fall, you come to a certain point where you accept that you've fallen. 

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