Completely, Utterly, Gloriously Broken

I've been thinking a lot about brokenness lately. The latest incident that made me come to what I think is new insight happened Saturday. I broke a couple of my toes...two of them on my left foot. I thought it was 3 but alas, the third one is fine. A friend, who is a nurse, confirmed for me yesterday they are indeed broken. I had no intention of going to the doctor for it but since he knows his stuff, why not?

This physical brokenness isn't really the focus of my musings but it helped me pull some things together. I actually said to Steve, "oh for crying out loud, when am I going to get a break anyway?" I'm sure you can anticipate his answer. "Well, you kind of did get a break, literally." I so did not think it was funny then and I still don't.

What made me first think about brokenness happened earlier this year when someone completely broke my heart. At the time I didn't focus on it too much because physically I just wasn't able. I had to focus on getting better. But since I've started a treatment plan and am feeling more normal, I began to want answers and justification for her decision but they didn't really come. I eventually did get some answers but they didn't help me out. People far wiser than me told me not to go searching because I wouldn't get the real truth, only perception at best and lies at worst, and they were right. I should have listened. That only led to further brokenness.

Sadly, this happens in ministry more often than it should. Sometimes God moves people in and out of my life and the purposes and results are far greater. But that's not what I'm talking about here. I miss my friend and wish her well but I just know she's made a bad choice. This leads to even more brokenness. But I can't take that on. It's hers to bear. I just don't want to watch it either.

So between these breaks in my heart (and that was just 1 example) and the actual break of my toes, I have realized something. It isn't until I get to the point of complete brokenness that I can be made completely whole. I've been holding back parts of my being from full service. What I'm holding it back for is a mystery. I mean, really, how is that going to benefit me? But, selling all out for the furtherance of God's plan for me, that not only benefits me but scores of others. Most of them I probably don't even know yet.

I've also realized that I can't depend on those around me to keep me whole. They will let me down. And as an aside, I will let them down too. If I let those incidents affect how or why I minister to people, the rest of my time in ministry will be like a roller coaster depending on what others do. That's ridiculous. It's not fair to others who truly need to be ministered to and it handicaps me or even paralyzes me from going on.

The only brokenness that is beneficial is when I'm broken over the lost or broken over my own sin. God has brought me to this point for me to recognize that I have not been sold out, that I am hanging on too tight to things and that it's time for me to let go.

And let God.....what? He gets to fill in that sentence. Not me.

A Snippet From My Soul

Normally my journal posts are for me but sometimes they are public, particularly after the lesson has been learned. This is one of those times when I feel the potential help to someone else is worth the vulnerability plus it dishonors nobody and does not divulge a confidence. I "un-personalized" the form of some of the thoughts and questions so it isn't quite so awkward to read. Here's a look into the the pages of my journal that reflects the agony of my soul...

For the last couple of days I’ve been pondering this one question…what will (or would) I look like bald? A few of us were talking yesterday (Sunday) about the intricate details God knows about us and how valuable we are. It all stemmed from the verse in Matthew (see post bottom) that references God knowing how many hairs are on our heads. One of the guys commented “well, mine are less than when we started talking about it.” I was already struggling with that thought silently... agonizing over it actually. It must be a full time job for God to keep track of the hairs on my head given the rapidity of their departure from my head.

A couple of weeks ago I wept as I lay in bed at this very thought…I am going to be bald. Steve just held on to my hand and listened as I lamented and sort of grieved over it—even though the process is slow(ish) and it hasn't happened yet. I asked, “Doesn’t it make you sad that I am losing my hair?” He said, “No, but it makes me sad that it makes you sad.” I then asked, “Will you still love me when I’m bald?” That might sound like a ridiculous question but I badly needed the reassurance. He said, “of course I’ll love you.” The truth is he loves me no matter what. We’ve been through a LOT over the years. He wiped the tears from my face. I must have cried for another 5 minutes before I fell asleep.

When I’m in that really good place of recognizing what’s important in life and what is not, I can easily see that losing my hair is not the worst thing that can happen to someone. But let’s face it—I am human like everyone else and a woman losing her hair is traumatic. It’s not insurmountable but it can be almost too much to bear. I also know there are women losing their hair for reasons far worse than mine…like cancer. In spite of everything, I have those days when I really can’t stand the thought.

It makes me smile that I’ve had 4 people tell me they want to go wig shopping with me IF the time comes it’s necessary. I have overwhelming support although the only person who has agreed to shave their head bald with me is Steve; everyone else is a definite “no”. Yet I’m sad. When will the blows stop coming? When will God recognize that I’ve already had more than I can bear? Or am I stronger than I think because it’s not me but Christ in me? It’s not about what I can handle but what God wants to handle through me. For His glory….it’s not about me. I am just the object of the lesson. A bald lesson, perhaps, but a lesson nonetheless.

Matthew 10:29-31 “Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? And not one of them will fall to the ground apart from your Father. But even the hairs of your head are all numbered. Fear not, therefore, you are of more value than many sparrows.”

Oh, yes, I am valuable indeed. Even without a hair on my head I am valuable. That doesn’t mean I won’t cry over it. Again. And again. And maybe again. I guess it just means my tears over it are valuable too. God cares about them because He cares about me and everything that troubles me. 1 Peter 5:7 “Casting all your anxieties on Him for He cares for you.”