Can feeling broken help make me whole?
By Jessica Brodie
Have you ever been through something so difficult it feels like a physical blow? I’ve felt the punch of grief send shockwaves through every muscle in my body. It’s hard, and it can hurt so, so badly. My daughter went through something recently that make her feel, as she said, “Like an almost-bare winter tree, like one final gust could sweep through and strip her of every remaining leaf.” Others have described it like a tidal wave washing over them, smashing them to the ground in a tangle of broken parts.
When hard things happen, I can be tempted to tuck in tight, like an impenetrable ball, protecting and preserving myself against all harm. As humans, our survival instinct is so powerful, and that can be a good thing.
But I’ve learned the hard way that meeting that pain head on can also help. I remember once curled sobbing on my bathroom floor, feeling completely alone… knowing I was alone… and then realizing I actually wasn’t alone. No human being might have stood with me, but Jesus was right there next to me. I couldn’t see Him, but I felt Him there with me. He was there on His knees with me. That was a huge moment in my faith journey, for I’d finally let my wall down enough for Him to step through and meet me there.
Still, I often turn back to my old ways when rough things happen. I convince myself “everything’s fine,” or bury myself in work so I don’t have to think about it. I apply so many quick fixes that, if they were visible, it would look like I was covered in Band-Aids. I shut my walls tight and seal out the world and the pain right along with it.
Eventually, though, it happens. Like a boil pressing toward the surface or a volcano ready to erupt, that painful thing pokes its ugly tentacles out, and there it is. I’m broken once again.
And then I remember an important truth: yes, I’m broken, but I’m not alone. I’m broken, but that’s how Jesus uses His divine superpowers to put me back together again. I’m broken, but eventually, I’ll be whole—and better for it.
When we're on our knees, sometimes that's how we truly understand our need for Jesus.
And make no mistake: I need Jesus.
I do—I truly need Jesus.
Knowing I need Him, that without Jesus I’m weak and broken and lost, is humbling. But it is also a game-changer, for that’s what truly opens the door to my growth and ultimate healing. My brokenness helps make me whole, for it helps me discover that only through Jesus can I achieve that wholeness.
“By his wounds you were healed,” we’re reminded in 1 Peter 2:24b (CEB).
And in Matthew 11:28-30, Jesus beckons us close, saying, “Come to me, all you who are struggling hard and carrying heavy loads, and I will give you rest. Put on my yoke, and learn from me. I’m gentle and humble. And you will find rest for yourselves. My yoke is easy to bear, and my burden is light.”
If you’re in a hard place, it’s OK to mourn. It’s OK to let yourself break.
For in our brokenness there is a forever healing, and His name is Jesus.