Why is it that sometime in life, I was made to believe that is I was broken, I was worthless? I don’t remember ever hearing someone use those words, yet I know the feelings all to well. I guess it really is true that folks don’t remember the words that you say, but they will always remember how you made them feel.
Don’t mistake me for having said no one ever said anything hurtful. I wish I could say that was far from the truth, but reality is that I was emotionally broken by words long…long ago. Actions though…oh actions, they can break a soul.
I’m convinced that some people never realize how much harm their actions, or lack there of can produce. Yet, it appears that most frequently the people we love most are the ones who break us down. Lately, I’ve had to do a lot of healing over a broken past. While I can’t go back to childhood and redo any of it, I can pick up the broken pieces, and let God put them back together. They won’t be without evidence of having been broken. No, those scars will remain. But broken colors can still produce beautiful artwork.
I think back to being a little girl, and how my parents never attended open houses or parent teacher conferences. Those things just weren’t important to them. No, in Dad’s life, drinking was what took priority over me. In Mom’s life, trying to keep the peace was priority. Back then that shy little girl would spend hours in her room. She would cry into her pillow behind a closed door, aching because she wasn’t good enough or important enough. No one ever said it, I just felt it in my soul. I remember even as a child in 4th grade, how much time I had spent preparing for a science fair. Hours and hours were spent on my presentation. The day came for parents to attend. Mine never did. There I stood, broken again.
If only I had known then what I know now. Those actions of others, did not define me. Only the love of my Lord defines me. Our mighty God created me with a purpose. Dear sister, He did the same with you. The Creator of the universe decided that in His plan for this world, He needed a you…a me. When the time was right, He created us. Psalm 139:13 shows His intentionality, “For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb.” Oh dear one, He knit us together.
Take a moment to reflect on Psalm 139:13. He knit us together. Think about knitting whether you know how to do so, or whether you’ve watched another create. There is something very personal that occurs when a person knits. Truly, it’s personal no matter how a person creates a piece of artwork. Color, material, size, shape, purpose all must be taken into consideration. Our finger prints, and our personal style are all over each thing we create…be it a quilt or a bookmark. Our DNA becomes entwined with each piece we touch.
When God knit us together, it was personal. He considered how He would make us…make me. He chose to make me short, and a little wider than the average bear. He made my eyes green, and my hair brown. He made me gentle, and emotional, with an intense love for animals. He had a purpose for me, and a plan for my future. Dear Sister, His fingerprints are all over me. I bear His DNA! How did He create you? Tall or short? Green eyes or brown. Shy or outgoing? He made you with a special purpose.
So how did I…did we end up broken? For some of us, the devil played a role in brokenness. For others, God used trials in our lives to refine our character. I’ve learned dear sister, if the road were always smooth, I wouldn’t be near the person I am today. God’s words tells us, “Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance. Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.” James 1:2-4
That part about perseverance finishing it’s work and creating maturity. I never understood that until reaching middle age, yet it’s so very true. To be perfectly hones,t the counting it all as joy part I still haven’t quite grasped! The trials of my life, and the times when I just couldn’t understand why God would allow such suffering in my life…those experience taught me to persevere. Those experiences taught this girl to hold on!! There were better roads ahead. As I matured, those same experiences that broke my when I was younger, caused me to grow into the woman I am today. They taught me to trust God to pick up those broken pieces, and to put them back together in the way He desires.
The way He desires. That was a tough lesson to learn. You see, many times in my life, I wanted to glue those pieces back together my way. That glue just never seemed to hold. Each time I tried to assemble my broken heart, spirit, or pride, I found the pieces once again crumbling…often into smaller pieces. Oh, but dear sister, the joy came when I learned to let God do the repairing. Yep! When I put those pieces of my life into His mighty hands, He put them back together just perfectly. Maybe His repaired pieces weren’t what I thought they should be, but that doesn’t matter. No. My plans and desires don’t matter. It’s God’s that do!
When I trust God and allow Him to attend to the brokenness, something beautiful always reveals itself. Are you broken sister? Are you trying to put the pieces back together, and the glue just won’t hold? Try putting your pieces in God’s hands. Ask Him to repair the broken places in your life. Oh dear one, it may not be easy, but I promise it will be beautiful! I thank God every day that broken pieces can still be beautiful.