How do you live with your own broken heart?
We all have them and all fear them. We all struggle with our daily brokenness, just as much as we try avoiding it.
At least I do. All the time. Pretend to be good. To be perfect. To deliver the best quality. Results. While being the nicest, kindest, and loving all without fault. Like Mary Poppins. Practically perfect in every way.
But that’s not really me. I don’t even come close. I get frustrated at work with this one excel formula that doesn’t work. I am annoyed with that one person that seems to ignore emails. I am disappointed in myself for not getting my to list done and not knowing the full answers to all questions. I want to handle it all. Be in control. Understand.
Yet there is only one way in which my broken way of dealing with life is made whole. It’s in the silence of my room. Where I sit with my Bible, my cup of tea and my notebook. And even more, it’s in the communion of people, each with their own brokenness, bringing it to the table. Letting Jesus break it, like bread, to make it whole again.
I am afraid that it hurts. Being broken hurts. Yet it’s through my one broken heart that the love comes in.