The prayer that prevails is not the work of lips and fingertips. It is the cry of a broken heart and the travail of a stricken soul. ~Samuel Chadwick
We have all broken something entrusted to us or have been the recipient of a broken item, tangible or not. We have dealt with broken appliances and broken alliances. We’ve nursed broken limbs and broken wings, whether our own or those of a loved one.
I hate to admit that I have broken the spirit of my children a time or two and have had my own broken many times. Every time it was devastating, resulting in broken sobs.
Each of us have experienced broken promises and broken trust. Most of us have even had our hearts broken. Unfortunately, many of us have been the ones who caused others to suffer those very afflictions of brokenness that we inflicted on others.
I remember growing up and hearing the term “broken home” and not having any idea what that meant. My mother explained that a certain child was a product of a broken marriage. I still didn’t quite get it. To me broken meant something like my dolls head falling off. I could understand a broken mirror because I could see it. And because people warned me, I anticipated bad luck. Like any child, I broke plenty of glasses while growing up. Breaking things was simply a part of life,and very much a learning experience. I never knew that so many things could be broken in a lifetime. I got married and broke the chains to my family. Throughout the years I’ve broken ties with people in my life whether it was family, business, or personal. I met people who spoke broken English. I experienced broken health, and was witness to broken terrain. I’ve often thought life to be a mosaic.
Though I had experienced the breaking of things in my life, I still had not experienced “brokenness” until much later. It wasn’t just a defeat, a disappointment, a loss, or a painful experience. It was a downright crushing of my soul on a level I’d never felt before. It came in the aftermath of a holdup. It came with vulnerability, the loss of confidence, a void in my life, excruciating emotional pain, and a total lack of direction or guidance. I suffered. I cried. And I reached out to the only One I knew to be greater than all things. Only then was I able to begin healing.
When I was broken, I only knew of two choices. I could have deemed myself wasted and given up (which I did for a while) or I could surrender to what was higher than me (which I finally did and will never regret) and allow myself to be restored. We often feel hopeless and accept defeat. When we allow love to enter and meet us in that dark and lonely place, we begin to heal.
Currently, I am experiencing what I first thought was brokenness again as I was helpless and hopeless. I could not see the bigger picture, and I still struggle with understanding. However, I see His hand placing the pieces of mosaic. Though many of us in this situation feel pain, ultimately He is taking away the suffering. So often in circumstances where we are key players though not the main player, we focus on our feelings and how things affect us. Though we might be involved, there is often someone else whose struggle is much harder and more painful than ours. We need to focus on the person it is about and offer love and support any way we can. We have to surrender to Him to guide us as we are not in control nor do we see the whole picture. I’m not saying we have to give up hope. I am saying sometimes the hope is not at all in the outcome we choose. There are often bigger issues that we don’t have the capability to understand. Ultimately, we have to trust.
So as I am in this dark place, I am not lonely. I know that I am supported. I am surrounded by love and lifted in prayer. Though I hurt, it is not about me. I choose to focus. I choose to accept His plan. I have hope in Him. And mostly, I trust that He will heal us all.