“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit” (Psalm 34:18).
For most of my 43 years on this earth, I have felt broken. I’m not talking about sad or depressed, I mean not together, not with it, not whole. I have felt not enough and yet sometimes too much: too much mess, too much trouble, too much, well, me.
I am most often my own worst critic, condemning this fragile heart with foolish thinking that says, “What will people think if they know you struggle with this?” or “You should be over this by now. What is wrong with you?”
I know the tatters are visible in my rough edges. I realize all too well that I am bruised and fragile while struggling to appear put together. I can feel the ridges of the scars on my heart, the burns on my soul, the fissures that go deep and cause my ankles to give way beneath me. Countless times, I have given God the hurts I bear, and I have felt His grace over and over again. Yet before long, it feels like my brokenness has resurfaced. Maybe you’ve felt that way, too, that you are never going to be whole and no matter how big His grace is, you will never measure up.
Life can be exhausting. All the posturing and fight to survive can swallow you up. Some days you want to stay in bed and cry, but you can’t. You’re someone others look up to for strength. And let’s be real for a moment—our broken places cannot always be masked with makeup and plastic smiles. Sometimes they crack wide open when you least expect it and give way in a torrential rush.
The truth is, we all have wounds. We all carry scars. But we are not the sum of what we’ve done or what has been done to us. While experience shapes us, it does not define us. We may feel broken, but that is not the end of the story! It’s never too hard or too big for Him to heal. Our broken lives have purpose when placed in the hands of a mighty God.
According to the Father, nothing can take root, grow or reach its fullest potential without dying first. There must be brokenness, a crack, to let the light and rain in which are both so desperately needed for a seed’s growth. Someday, after a falling away of the husk has taken place and the spreading of tiny roots is gaining shape, brokenness gives way to more than it could ever have been on its own. Rather than an event or struggle to get over, we find that His grace gets us through our brokenness.
Because of Christ, what once was broken becomes a portrait of strength made perfect in weakness. Tatters become a banner of grace! Scars, frayed edges and fissures declare that we are valued and worth every bit of suffering the Son went through to redeem. His grace measures up when we don’t.
May we—the broken ones—remember that beginning again starts with one step. It takes courage to get back up and offer yesterday's script a new line, but rewrites are God's specialty! When our broken places are laid before Him, we find grace that brings greater growth than we dared dream possible—grace that always measures up.
