11 Jun The Beauty and Burden of Brokenness
Each morning, the screens in my life shout and show turmoil.
World leaders making threats and calling each other names.
Fires ravaging apartment buildings, forcing a mother to trust that a stranger’s arms will catch her infant.
Rich fashion designers taking their own lives when an invisible pain becomes too much to carry.
Turmoil is both the soundtrack and the screenplay of our humanity. It is in our local communities, in our nations, and in ourselves. Trouble all around, and trouble all within.
Inescapable and undeniable.
We are broken.
Why, then, if our brokenness is universal, do we dress it up with photos carefully posed? Why, then, if it’s all around, do we hesitate to bring it to the light? Why, then, if it’s within us all, do we change the subject and pretend it’s all fine?
Our brokenness is our bond, and our bonds bring about beauty.
The mother who birthed a broken child, one whose body will never function as it should, said these words to my ears today — the unexpected will come to your life, and it will change you.
Her child’s broken body changed her untested faith to one that is certain, and his brokenness introduced her to others whose brokenness changed them, too.
The unexpected was what broke them, and yes, it broke me. There is a bond and unexpected beauty in brokenness.
Our turmoil and trouble, burdens and broken parts, aren’t supposed to shame us. They are meant to serve us, shining a light on what needs redemption and bringing to the forefront what must be surrendered.
But pain begs to be hidden, wants to be denied, so we stay silent about our broken parts and deny the world the beauty of what God repairs.
Here’s the beauty in how I was broken: I was destroyed then, but I am not now. God has made me whole.
I was enveloped in pain, then God filled me with His peace.
Brokenness is always repairable, if it’s given to Jesus.
Sharing our brokenness shares our humanity. Sharing our struggles strengthens our faith. My journey through brokenness can bring beauty to yours — and isn’t this why we’re meant to live in community? To bear one another’s burdens and to hold each other’s arms? To notice when others are floundering and bring them to places of hope? To say “I survived, and you will too?”
The world breaks us. God mends us.
Brokenness to beauty, and burdens to bonds.
He is forever making all things new.