There’s something I need to tell you and it’s very important. I need you to know this so listen carefully:
I am broken.
Yes, I know you know. We all know that all of us are broken but I need to say those words to you now and I need you to hear them and to take them in.
I am broken.
Those words have taken a long, long time to work their way out and, I’ll be honest, I’d love to retract them. If only they would scurry back inside into the shelter of an armoured heart and curl up beneath the dust sheets.
There are hallways of our hearts where we alone of all the souls on earth may walk. Dust lingers in the air, broken glass litters the floor, and cracks line the walls. So many cracks telling so many stories and often only visible from within.
This is the place to which we retreat when sticks and stones are being flung, throwing up granite walls to keep the words out and holding all our broken pieces tightly in our hands until they bleed – and longer still so that they will not slip out and hurt the ones we love. And even when the onslaught is over and only the cracks are left, perhaps you cower there still.
One day, holding your Father’s hand, you may venture out once more. You may even let others in though never yet to the place behind the wall. And one day something may happen and you find yourself walking in those halls once more and though there may be new cracks, some of the old ones look different. When you touch them, your fingers come away with a residue of grace and forgiveness clinging to their tips. They have been mended in such a way that they do not deny what was but that it still needs to be.
Evidence of brokenness remains but the promise of a fuller completeness weighs like feathers in the air.
In the months that have passed, I have been walking these halls, running my hands along the edges, tracing the broken pieces. Some have been fixed and some are not yet but what hurt the most was the thick, granite barricade which others could see from round about. I would, at times, go out to them but they could never come in.
And here I stand before you now. Hear me:
I am broken.
And I reach out to touch the granite but it crumbles to dust, for dust is all that any of us truly are, and is carried away on the wind.
There will still be walls. You cannot let anyone and everyone come too close. But the doors are no longer bricked in and can be opened by the right people.
None but God will see the truly hidden places of the heart but I am learning how to and who to expose to the degrees. The granite is gone and it doesn’t look like it is coming back, no matter what anyone else thinks they may see.
I will undoubtedly hurt you at some point and certainly more than just once and I want to tell you now that I am sorry. You will hurt me too though and that’s ok because we are all broken and sometimes we cut each other with pieces without intending to. We’ll get by. We’ll just forgive each other. It’ll be ok. We’ll be made whole one day.
But for now, I have something to tell you. I need you to listen because I may just lose my nerve. I know you know and I know it is true of all of us and that the day will come where you need to tell me these words too. I promise I will listen. But if I can just say it to you now, I know one day I’ll heal. Those words, the words that we all long for someone to hear:
I am broken. See me.