I want to write about something that’s deeply personal to me as I think about my life in relationship with the Lord and the grace and mercy that He has poured out over me.
In 2 Corinthians 12:8-9, it says, “Three times I pleaded with the Lord about this, that it should leave me. But He said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me.”
I don’t often share my testimony and I won’t take the time to do it right now, but when people ask me to use a word to describe myself, I often use the word broken. I’m a mess, really. Memories linger but there is little time to process them. I’m not sure I want to process them. Maybe this is why my husband says I have “battered friend” syndrome. I’ve been hurt. It’s easier to be a friend on Facebook than it is to manage real friendships off-line. Friendship is messy.
Laundry abounds, dinner calls, I’m often short-tempered. I find myself frustrated with things that carry no eternal significance. I often forget how blessed I am.
The liar is tricky; he whispers, “What do you have to offer? Look how broken you are.”
Broken. Yes, it’s the voice of the enemy of my soul. It is my burden to carry.
Am I “broken?” Yes, yes I am. I must confess that I often have more questions than answers. I wonder if my children will be broken like I am broken. In my heart, I know they will though… because really, we are ALL broken.
That is why we need a Savior. Jesus came into the World to give us new life. To bring healing. To mend the broken places in our hearts. As I get older, I am learning that being broken is its own kind of beautiful. You see, being broken means I don’t have to struggle with the pain and perfectionism (although I sometimes do) and being broken provides a freedom all on its own. After all, there can be no glass houses for broken people. There’s no need to compare brokenness either, for we are all broken. Being broken means I’m in need of constant repair, so I find myself at the feet of the One who heals.
There is strength there.
Broken people carry a beauty all their own, and broken people who know they are redeemed and bought with a price are radiant with a light that transcends the pain of this life. Very little in this life compares to the beauty that comes with brokenness.
The beauty that comes from ashes is available to you, just like it’s available to me.
I claim brokenness today. I claim it to find healing and peace; I claim it to exchange ashes for beauty; to have the one thing that I can’t have without being broken—I claim it for grace. Grace in my brokenness, healing for the broken.
Grace for others.
Beauty for ashes.