The Girl with A Broken Compass:  A Poem

There is an image that has stayed with me over the past few years. An image of a girl whose face is streaked with tears. In her hands she holds pieces of shattered glass and a tiny little arrow, all of this is red from the cuts upon her skin. It is all that is left of her compass. The girl had clutched it far too tightly within her sweaty palm, so as she stumbled on, watching for the coming dawn, it slipped right through her fingers.

That girl was me. I’m the girl with the broken compass.

Over the passed few years, that image became a poem, and that poem became a prayer. I learned that there are many shiny compasses in this world and each one wants to show you the way. But there is only One who is the Way, Truth, and Life, and He alone can guide us to the light.

Not long ago I was in one of my favorite places, the tiny antique shop by the docks downtown. I was peering through the faint and dusty golden light into a glass case, and something peered back at me. It was small and round and brass; tarnish spots marred every surface.

It was a broken compass.

I couldn’t leave the shop without that little token of all I had learned. It now sits on my desk as constant reminder that I don’t have to find my way on my own.

I have recently stepped out into a new adventure: University. Oh, how easy it is to try to put my broken compass back together and try to guide myself through this unknown. But I will only get lost. And so will you. I know how much I need that reminder right now, so no matter what chapter you started this fall, I know you might need it to.

So, here is the poem I wrote while the cuts from the shattered glass still bleed, and I was still just learning to cling to my Father’s hand when the road signs grew dark.

What do I do when I’m lost in the woods

And my compass is broken;

What gave me direction

And what I put my hope in?

I’m the girl with the broken compass.

How do I find my way

With no sense of direction?

No matter night or day

Every road’s a reflection.

I’m the girl with the broken compass.

What do I do when I come to a crossroads

And every way just looks the same?

The road signs mean nothing

They are all void of a name.

I’m the girl with the broken compass.

I held my compass so hard

That it shattered and cut me.

The blood ran far, and the pain was blinding.

I’m the girl with the broken compass.

I wept as I cried out to You

Begging You to come

Begging You to lead me through

And hold me in Your love

I’m the girl with the broken compass.

You are my North, You give me direction.

I can no longer lean on myself

Or the compass I’ve chosen

So now you are what I’ll put my hope in.

I’m the girl with the broken compass.

You take my hand down the right road

I’ll trust you wherever we might go

Lead me on, no matter how far

I’m the girl who’s let go of her compass.