Broken Buildings, Broken Heart: Article 7

All week I have been debating what to write about. There are many stories, but some are very personal and some are simply too hard to explain with just words. I am currently writing this article with the deadline looming just mere hours before me.

I am sitting at the Higher Grounds coffee shop in Remer, the part time job I’ve held since returning home in September. I’ve been browsing my pictures and reliving memories in between times of customers and cleaning. Thankfully, it has been a slow day. Otherwise there just might not have been an article this week.

As I peruse my Poland pictures I am reminded of all the history Poland has. There are old buildings filled with tales, cemeteries and old bunkers that weave legends of war and battles, and of course the patriotic people of Poland tell the stories as well. While I gathered many bits of detail, I learned that there is so much more in their history to be learned.

My last Monday in Poland we spent it exploring a few of the abandoned places. Between the Germans and the Soviets it’s hard to remember who built what and how long they were there. Bunkers edge cities. Not because the Polish were fighting with anyone, but because they were often the buffer between the USSR and Germany. That day we saw a couple old bunkers, a Russian cemetery, and an old officers building built by the Germans.

This last building was my favorite. It was a mess, but you could still see the grandeur that it must of held before bombs, abandonment, graffiti, and parties all left their mark. It was built in a circular fashion. There were very large rooms with high ceilings connected by curved corridors lined with offices and dorm rooms.

Upon first entering the building there was a round, domed room that connected to two different hallways and some stairs to enter into the second story. Bricks, doors, windows, cushions, and heaps of glass covered almost everywhere you looked. We easily spent over an hour following hallways, sticking our heads into rooms, climbing stairs, and imagining what the building must have been like before all this destruction was brought upon it.

After many rooms explored and stairs climbed we found ourselves outside in a large courtyard. It was almost impossible to not step on red ceramics and other building rubble since it was strewn so thickly across the ground. As I went around taking pictures to capture the sorrow and beauty of such a destroyed place, Kinga perused the rubbish piled on the ground until she found something unique. She held out for me to see a marred and broken piece of glass shaped undeniably as a heart. As I took a picture of her with this piece of glass, I found myself pondering the symbolism that it brought to mind.

Before I could think too much about it though, I met up with Monika (Kinga’s mother). She looked so troubled and sad that I had Kinga translate for me what was weighing her down. Monika and Jarek have desired to own a large building complex, in order to hold their dreams of a Christ-centered theatre, a theatre school, and a home for elderly and/or orphans. She explained her sorrow that such a perfect building for their dreams would be laying out unwanted and in ruins, while they had no resources to create it into what she could envision.
Again, I was hit with a great sense of something more meaningful was being spoken out here. I took my leave of everyone and struck out on my own to get a few more shots of the building and take some time to think.

As I climbed to the highest point I could I marveled at the beauty the building must have once held. It was designed for greatness. At that thought I realized that this building was a perfect example of us, we as humans.

We were initially designed and created for beauty and for greatness. We were meant for a purpose and built perfect for that purpose and when we fulfilled it, we would bring glory to the one who designed us. But before we humans could really live out this glory we were destroyed. Sin was brought in and flattened us useless. Since the Fall of Adam and Eve, we have been conceived with this design for greatness, but it is laid out as impossible to fulfill because of the sin we were born into.

While we’ve already been rendered seemingly inadequate, the destruction on our building doesn’t stop. Life brings people who leave their beauty and leave their scars on us. Through graffiti, drunken parties, blatant disrespect, and natural deterioration, the perfection we were created for that already seemed unreachable distances itself from us even further.

Just as Monika saw the beauty and the potential of this abandoned officers building, we sometimes can see what we were meant for. But just like Monika having the vision, but not having the resources, we find ourselves glimpsing what could be, but realizing there’s no way for us to be able to afford it.

The only way Monika and Jarek could ever have this building is if, by some miracle, it was given to them along with the crew to fix it up. The only way we could every have our hearts open for renewing is if someone paid the price and then gifted it back to us. The thing is, while Monika and Jarek haven’t yet been gifted with this building, we, as humans have a gift waiting for us.

As I walked down the stairs leading away from the front large double door entrance, I was overwhelmed by the realization of the initial depravity of my heart. More than that though, I was overcome with the rediscovering of the joy of Christ’s salvation. His sacrifice not only bought my broken, beaten, destroyed, useless heart, but He is continually building up, shaping, and cleaning it out so that it may once again display it’s originally designed glory. So that I may once again display my life’s originally designed glory—the glory of God shining in me.