Broken: reduced to fragments; fragmented; ruptured; torn; fractured; not functioning properly; out of working order.
My Mac battery is not functioning properly, my flat iron is out of working order. A smashed Tiffany style lamp-shade (busted during our move south) is propped “good side forward” on the lamp downstairs. Defunct clocks, worn out hair-dryers, faulty flashlights, and a variety of other useless electrical junk sits, fractured, on shelves in our garage collecting dust and waiting to find its way to the dumpster. Somewhere along the way each broken item, which caused a level of distress, frustration, or inconvenience, has been replaced with a shiny new alternate.
Broken bones, ruptured tendons, improperly functioning hearts and lungs, fragmented emotions provide deeper challenges and aren’t so easily replaced. A friend of mine gave 3/4 of her healthy kidney to a woman who stood at death’s door because her kidney wasn’t working properly. CBS Evening News is reporting on an impending government shutdown. It’s no secret, Congress in the U.S. is broken. I watch as startling photographs and videos of ravaged towns and cities in earthquake damaged Japan scroll by.
I don’t think I like broken.
This week as my team and I talked about personal brokenness, I identified chips on my shoulder, deep cracks in my heart, and kicked around jagged pieces of self-centeredness and pride. But, instead of looking for a replacement, I realized in a fresh way how my brokenness is precisely why I need a Savior. I didn’t just need Christ’s mercy and grace on June 1, 1979, but I need it right here, right now. It’s just like Jesus isn’t it? He makes us new, sets us free, gives us true life through brokenness. He perfectly restores, eternally forgives, unconditionally loves through death on a cross.