IMG_1500Someone dear to me went through a season of deep brokenness.  The kind where you cry on the floor and shout to God, “How could you!?”  The kind where you don’t want to love people, but you don’t know how you won’t.  The kind where you wish there were hearts for sale at Target, so you could get a new one.  Been there? It’s been a couple of years now,  and the broken parts, though no longer bleeding, are still sensitive to the touch. Sensitive? And the broken parts are no longer wounds, but scars that tell a story. Story?  And the tears have stopped but start up quickly with compassion for someone else in their brokenness. Compassion?  So the brokenness bred sensitivity, a story and compassion. Hmm… They say never touch a butterfly in a cocoon, it needs to go through that metamorphic process to become beautiful. And they say the only way to get amazing gold is to put it through the fire. And it is glass that is stained, not purified, that makes beautiful cathedral windows. Do I wish brokenness on anyone? Heck no. Admittedly, I wish I could have been spared of some of my own. But if broken makes us better, then maybe it’s OK. Because the world IS a better place with the broken things of God living within it: butterflies…gold… stained glass….and you and me.

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