Broken
I have a few valuable keepsakes such as a ceramic figurine which has been passed on from my grandmother and drawings by my children and grandchildren that bring sentimental tears to my eyes as I remember days gone by. These items aren’t worth anything to anyone but me but I would glue, tape and whatever else was needed to fix and preserve them because of the significance they have in my life.
Sadly, I don’t seem to have the same urgency to fix other “broken” things in my life which are just as, if not more significant to me. I tend to limp my way through broken relationships, broken promises, broken expectations and then expect emotional pain, bitterness and resentment to never show itself in my character as I try my best to be a better man. As the items I mentioned were worthy of preserving, likewise, there are those who wait for me to fix what they love and hold dear to their hearts because of the significance I may hold in their lives.
The longer I live, the more I realize brokenness is a requirement for maximum usefulness and my idea of perfect people, are only beautiful versions of brokenness. I’ve been broken when pushed just beyond the limits of my physical or emotional capacity which then hurls accusations of weakness and worthlessness. As a broken bone or broken heart, the resulting scar tissue makes it more resistant to a repeated injury, but the truth is the world breaks everyone. In the repairing process, I must be careful not to underestimate the need to glue the right pieces back where they belong because if I don’t take the time to properly mend what was broken, and avoid prolonging the restoration by dwelling on the why or whom of my hurt, my brokenness will never recover properly and my purpose in life will be greatly compromised.
Whether a physical or emotional brokenness, the effort to fit into social circles and appear whole and unbroken is futile because we live in a damaged world full of damaged people. I continually remind myself to never lose hope because I can never be irreparably broken, besides, my brokenness has always been a better bridge to connect with others than my “pretend wholeness” ever was.
Regardless of the cause of brokenness, I view it as a constant reminder to fortify the “chink in my armor” to protect me from further damage with a warning of the brokenness that will never heal is the one I refuse to acknowledge. If I cannot speak of my own brokenness, it will speak for me. Understanding my own areas of brokenness releases the power and strength of compassion and mercy to learn what otherwise would never be understood as I begin to recognize the weaknesses that connect me to everyone else. Many times blessings are realized through a brokenness that could not come any other way.
Those who care for you are not fooled by the flaws or mistakes you make, they remember your worth when you feel worthless; your wholeness when you are broken; your innocence when you feel guilty; and your purpose when you’ve lost your way. Wholeness does not mean perfection, it means embracing brokenness as an integral part of life.
The world only wants the strong, the successful, the victorious, the unbroken. The humble and virtuous man extends his heart and hand to the scarred and those who have failed. Heaven is filled with earth's broken lives and there are none that its power cannot restore from a life crushed by pain, sorrow, or physical limitations to create a monument for restoration to those who struggle with similar inadequacies.
The power of surrounding yourself with other flawed people is they understand the healing comes with embracing their deficiencies. In this world, we are all unfinished and unfixed and the reality is we can only discover who we truly are in our brokenness. One person’s rejection does not symbolize the opinion of the world unless you have given them the power to speak for the world. In the end, we're all just broken humans intoxicated on the idea that healing can only come from without.