Broken

The older I get, the more I wish I could slow time down.

Today, I sat in church listening to a minister who is walking through the darkest trial any of us could never wish to go through. His pain was raw, new, and I sat listening to him praying for him as he spoke…his soul….his very soul is broken.

He spoke such truth…:if you have walked through the muck and mire of death then you know from where he speaks. The people who tell you that bad things only happen to bad people. Trials don’t come to those who walk with Jesus. Your trial is going to help someone else…that is why you are walking through this…these are all things I call horrible lies.

When your soul breaks…it makes a horrible sound…and only those who have lost have heard it. It is haunting…it never leaves you…and it will never be erased from the memory of anyone who has heard it. I’ve heard it a few times in my life…and when it was others…I personally cry out to Jesus for Him to help us…there is no other reaction that I ever have…just crying and crying out to Jesus.

Today, as I sat and bawled and listened to a man whose heart is broken…but still trusts Jesus….I remember that turning point that I had one night in my own apartment…with my little boy laying in his bed. His father was dead and I was left so alone…so very alone. Except l wasn’t..:it just felt that way at the time.

The words that people spoke to me in a hateful and negative way are etched into my brain….but what if..what if I chose to focus on the good of people that day…those months. What if, we looked at the good people did…instead of the pain.

I refuse to go to Ladies groups at church…at any church. I refuse to attend. I’ve been lied to, and lied about so many times that I no longer have the strength to try again. I’m tired…I’m so tired.

I instead, want to be with those who have nothing to prove…who are secret warriors. I surround myself with those that have been broken…and then have been made new.

I want to sit with the broken….because I am….broken. I will never be put back the same. I once had haughty ideas of life…and how people should act and be. I was very black and white…but life is not black and white. Life is bloody and dirty. Life makes us pay for the sins of others. Life doesn’t care how old or how pretty you are. It doesn’t care how tired or broke you are. Life knocks you off your feet and dares you to get back up again. Life tells you you are not worth it…you won’t make it.

I look back at the me before…and I don’t like her. She was judge mental, she believed bad people had bad things happen to them because they were in fact, bad…….only to find out that that wasn’t in fact true at all.

The broken can see things that those who have not been broken cannot see. That’s the beauty of Jesus…He uses the broken parts…because we that are now broken look at life with new eyes. We see the dirty, the homeless, the drunk, the beggar…the single father or mother with fresh eyes. We see the hurting, the lonely that no one else sees. We see the suffering that others miss…because we are looking for it..and that’s when the beauty really starts.

God has called us to a hurting world…but many of us want to do it with gloves on. We don’t want to get too close. Then all the sudden..we get our hands dirty…because we had something happen to us that broke that perfection shell we had, and the real transformation can now take place.

When we look at each day with “me” eyes and not “others” eyes. We will never find happiness. If we constantly seek what’s best for us…we will never know true joy.

I cannot change my past…the good, the bad. The mean things that I’ve said with an air of distrust and superiority…but I can change who I am now…how about you? Are you ready to sit with the broken? Get your hands dirty!