Brokenness--When We Are Shredded for Growth

Whatever brings us to a grinding state of brokenness is also the very place that breaks up fallowed grounds. Perhaps it's our eyes seeing clearly the damage so blindly hidden behind sin or the soul-starved poverty of us walking around in our ram shackled skin, or the intimacy of Christ plunging the depths of Love straight through us.

Brokenness turns the dirt of our hearts and painfully penetrates the hardened soil of souls. There's a tearing and pulling away from firm surface which becomes soft with each tug of the plow.

In the breaking is a place fertile for planting.

Our brokenness tenderizes us to receive the small seedling that needs to be buried deep inside our fresh upturned hearts. A ready cocoon for nurturing where busting open is the birth of sprouting.

This weekend, I was reminded of how small and broken my little hands are. How could I do anything to touch the poverty, soul-starved brokenness of these? So in a way I grieved like so many others, Here, and Here, and Here and many more.

This past Sunday I heard John Alan Turner say something like this (paraphrased): "Knowing they (the Disciples) aren't able to feed the multitudes, yet stretching their faith Jesus says, feed the people. They only have a little fish and bread and that's it. This is all the food there is. Far from enough. So Jesus tells them to bring what little they have, then He breaks and blesses it and gives it back to them. As the meager portions are handed out, He multiplies them in the distribution. And like the same, Jesus asks us what meager smallness do we have to offer? What little portions? Do we trust Him to do something or anything that'll be enough from our little offering? Jesus says, bring me what you have so I can break and bless it, give it back into your hands as you become part of My multiplication." (Mathew 14:13-21). No matter how little, within our hands are miraculous possibilities.

With all these in mind, I had a conversation over the weekend. This was only in my heart with God but it would've looked something like this:

Me: "I don't want to ever forget or move from this brokenness. I want to remember."

Him: "My joy comes in the morning."

Me: "What?"

Him: "Arise. There's a time for grieving but My joy comes in the morning."

Me: "But how?"

Him: "Praise Me."

Me: "But I don't want to ever be the same, to go back. What of this brokenness, what of it?

Him: "It served a purpose to break your heart so I can finally plant this seed in it."

Me: "What kind of seed is it?"

Him: "You'll have to wait and watch the plant grow."


Brokenness is more than breaking. It is sowing.


"Sow for yourselves righteousness; reap in mercy; break up your fallow ground...." Hosea 10:12



I'll be sharing this on Tuesday at Bridget Chumbley's "Word Carnival" and this one is aptly: Brokenness.  Timely, I might say. Plus, don't miss John Alan Turner's sequel, "How to Walk On Water" . Yep,  you're the Peter, now walk.  PHOTO: courtesy of photobucket.com