Broken, The Healer and Me

She had a hole in her heart and an ugly gash on her leg. I watched her writhe in pain for a few minutes, too stunned by what she had done to herself to respond. But she laughed, at least she tried to. I was revolted. It was her own fault she was in this mess. If she’d only followed the rules, she wouldn’t have gotten hurt.

Broken’s maniacal humor came out in coughing gasps, she was nearing death.

“I’m fine!” She screamed at me. “I’m fine, I’m happy and I don’t need you to tell me what’s wrong with me.”

But then her heart whimpered, barely discernible above the boisterous, the callous facade.

“I’m Broken,” Heart sobbed. “So broken and tired and I’m dying here. Can’t you see? Do something, please.”

I did see. Crusty blood had formed around the wound in chest. It was bleeding less than her leg, less obvious as she glared at me. But that leg. It was disgusting. I could barely lift my eyes to see it. Her thigh festered and oozed, flies were attracted. It made me sick.

“Please, please help me. I’m dying,” Heart continued to plead, her voice weakening with every effort. “Can you take me to the Healer?”

“I can’t focus to help you with that ugly leg wound in the way,” I replied. “You’ll have to fix that first, then perhaps I can carry you to the Healer. You know, if you’d just followed the rules you wouldn’t be here.” I tore a page from my manual of rules. “Let me help you cover that first, clean you up a bit, then perhaps the Healer will see you. As it is, you’ll make Him sick.”

Broken screamed again, “I don’t want your rules!”

“But they’re good for you,” I tried to argue. “Besides, this way you’ll be presentable to the Healer.”

“Step back.” A voice so calm, so forceful, so real, it shook the ground. Light blazed around us, so tangible that the manual in my hands began to smolder.

“Your rules will do no good here. Broken will die while you fuss over a bleeding peripheral wound. Why have you not brought her to me by now?”

“But Healer, Lord,” I tried to explain. “I was going to bring her! I just wanted to help her clean up a bit first.”

“Child,” the Healer spoke to me though His back was turned as He knelt over Broken. “If I am sufficient to heal her heart, save her life, don’t you think I can handle her leg as well?”

 

Recently, the issues of morality and Biblical standards were brought to the forefront in my tiny little picture frame of the world. I believe that I have a Biblical worldview, and I stand firmly behind the inherency of the Word of God. That said, this short parable was my own wondering in prayer and listening to God about when and how to use my worldview and Godly principles to introduce people to the Savior.
Perhaps there are bigger, more deadly wounds that only Jesus can heal. And I can rest assured, that when He has healed their heart, He will heal all the rest of them as well.

Using A Broken Body and Bloody Heart

I am so broken. In many ways, I feel like I need to set myself on a shelf somewhere in the corner of life and wait until I’ve healed. Once my cracks are glued together, my bruises faded and I look presentable again – then, then I can serve. Surely God has no use for a weepy, tattered Christian. Surely God has more dynamic, charismatic individuals who can make a deeper, splashier, more memorable impact on the world.

My marriage stings, my ego smarts. I wrestle with compulsions, pride, addictions, envy, loneliness, fear and a myriad other maladies that may not be obvious this very minute. Due to my foibles, I was stunned and not a little nervous when God began calling me.

Recently, I finished a round of group therapy for wounded spouses. It was a conference call setting. I have only met one of the three women that I shared with over those 12 weeks. Each one of us has similar stories. We have each experienced similar offenses. Each one of us felt impotent, needy and unqualified to handle our own pain, much less minister to the needs of anyone else. That’s where God surprised us.

The group moderator wisely guided our conversations using provocative questions and homework. Then, she used us to teach each other.

“D,” how would you advise Abby in this situation?

Quite honestly, when the group began, I listed to D and J tell the summary of their stories. Not in a million years did I think I would learn from them – they were just as broken as I was!

At the same time, I began taking a Bible study at church called, Enhancing Your Marriage. My first impulse was to keep my head down and avoid having to admit the fragility of my marriage. Two days after our first class, the group leader called me and asked if I would facilitate a small group. The Holy Spirit insisted that I should accept the responsibility.

I met the six other women the following week, and discovered that their individual relationships were thriving compared to my own. Then the Holy Spirit began to insist that I share my vulnerabilities, my weaknesses, my pain and His sustaining grace in the midst of it all. I hope that I have been of some encouragement to the other girls, but certainly their responses to my role as small group leader have challenged and graced me.

That’s what God does. He pares us down, whittles us and refines us until we feel like there is nothing left. When we are at our weakest, then He places us in the most strategic places.

Remember the simplest definition of a mentor is “advisor.” Verbally, I am in no place to offer advise to any other broken human being. But perhaps, when I am weakest – willing to shut my own mouth – God admonishes and encourages His people through me. Praise the Lord!

P.S. If your own marriage is struggling due to the offense of a spouse, there is hope. There is tomorrow, there is grace and a future and a hope. If you need help, please consider this resource: A Woman’s Healing Journey. 

Brokenness

Tuesday’s theme is supposed to be “Tell Yourself the Truth” or “Truth be Told.”  I find it disturbing that my head feels full of lies, like little wormy-maggots.  Not all the time, but in comparison to the truths that I have allowed to take root firmly in my mind and life… well, I have some pretty nasty parasitic lies still in there.

Brokenness:

unusable, trashed, or if sentimental enough, a broken treasure can become a decoration or be tucked quietly away as a keepsake.  but for all it longs to be, was meant to be: it is useless.  an object of pity, a lesson learned, never to be repeated.  to be honest, this is why i still fight brokenness in so many ways.  Crucify, Broken

Forgive me Father, I don’t even recognize the brokenness opportunities – I am so busy avoiding them.

The truth is:

God requires Brokenness.  “The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise.”  Ps. 51:17

God knows that Brokenness is good for me.  Only when my stubborn will is broken, and He is allowed to step in and rebuild me in the image of Christ and like the master potter, mold me according to His  pleasure –  then will I know true joy and peace and He will be glorified.  I love what John Piper says, “God is most glorified in me, when I am most satisfied in Him.”

How do you view brokenness?  Has God broken you in some way?  Then, do you struggle to muster all your energy to heal, or allow Him to remake you differently than you were before?  Do you still need to be broken?  How do you feel about things that you have broken?