Kelly

Our attempts of self-protection only lead to further damage. Jesus is trustworthy. We can come to Him with open hands and all of our broken pieces.

About a year ago, I was at a ladies event one evening put on by my church. My church puts them together 2-3 times a year and covers a different topic each time. This particular time the topic was prayer. I don’t know about you, but I certainly do not have prayer mastered. I greatly looked forward to the evening (sans kids too…yay).

Prayer is a rather broad topic, so I wasn’t exactly sure what God was going to use that evening for. I just knew He would meet me where I was. He kept that promise in ways I never saw coming.

The Throne Room

There were two ladies leading the teaching time. As they opened the gathering, they reminded all of us there of God’s invitation to pray. He is listening and wants us to come to Him. He invites us into the very throne room of God.

Since then we have a great high priest who has passed through the heavens, Jesus, the Son of God, let us hold fast our confession. For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin. Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need.

Hebrews 4:14-16, ESV

One of the ladies shared with us what she envisions when she is welcomed by God to pray and share her heart with Him, her Abba Father. She considers how big God is, her Father who sustains the universe with His power. Then she enters into His presence dirty yet unafraid, and He pulls her up onto His lap. She is His daughter after all. He, the very one who holds in the earth in its place and knows the name of each star, wants to hear the heart of His daughter. Seeing His power while knowing His goodness, she pours out her heart to Him, and He listens, cares, and loves her.
It was powerful imagery to me.

Trustworthy with Our Broken Pieces

It brought to life these truths I know in my head but struggle with in my heart. You see, I’m a thinker, and I was thinking about this whole mosaic perspective of healing leading up to this prayer gathering. As I did, I also recognized that I am not a passive party in this artistic pursuit. God is the Master Artist, the One who sees the beauty among the shards of all that is broken. But I often times find myself clutching the pieces tightly in my hands, absolutely terrified of giving Him the pieces to work with.

You see, holding all the broken pieces of me in my hands feels like safety. I believe the lie that even though it’s all broken, if I’m the one holding it, I can’t be hurt by it anymore. So I hold them, hands tightly closed, and can feel them hurting me, all those sharp edges digging in as I squeeze them. My attempt at self-protection only causes more hurt as I clutch my hands, unwilling to open them to the One who redeems all the shards that cut me.

My attempt at self-protection only causes more hurt as I clutch my hands, unwilling to open them... Click To Tweet

Trustworthy with Our Open Hands

So in this scene, coming before my Abba, I see it differently than my sister in Christ shared with those of us at that gathering. When it was me in that picture, I was entering the throne room dirty and bloody with fists clenched. I haven’t figured out the fearless thing; so I cower, mostly with shame, while He looks at my hands and takes them gently in His. You know… The hands that bear the scars of the depths of His love for me. The ones that remind me He understands. The ones that were pierced so my broken pieces could be made new.

He holds my bloody hands in His. He lifts my head having already taken the shame I can’t yet shake. He looks me in the eyes with love, and He asks me to trust Him. When I remember who He is and His character, I know He is trustworthy.

Yet I often find myself like my own kids who come to me with scraped up hands sometimes. When they fear the cleaning of the wound will be too painful, they hesitate. I assure them I can only help them if they open their hands and let me see the wounds. I see in me the same hesitation as I fear the pain involved in cleaning the wounds of these broken shards I hold.

Wavering between opening my hands and closing them once more. I must remind myself daily of who God is, of His faithfulness and goodness. And in faith, open my hands once more trusting He will meet me in each broken piece as He heals the broken and makes a mosaic.

Your turn…

I know I am not the only one who holds brokenness in my hands. I’m not the only one who fights between fear that says, “hold on tight” and faith that says, “open your hands to your Father who cares for you.”

What brokenness are you holding today, dear sister?

What are you afraid to open up and take with confidence to the throne of grace?

Go, beloved daughter, and enter the throne room, dirty yet unafraid, to sit with your Father who loves you. Remember that the hands pierced by nails for your healing gently cradles the bloody hands you bring to Him.

All of us have experienced brokenness, but that is not where the story ends. Broken, but God… has redeemed me.

If you have found this inspiring, share the encouragement…

Diego PH

God, the Master Artist, looks at the shards of our brokenness and sees beauty that we can’t. God uses the brokenness and creates a new, beautiful mosaic.

I don’t know anyone in this world who has escaped brokenness. I know I haven’t. In fact, brokenness touched my life in profound ways early on in my life. I spent most of my adult life thus far trying to hide how broken I was, but once I began to acknowledge all the scattered pieces of me laying all around, I found myself desperate to find a way to put the pieces of me back together.

I found myself on a journey towards healing from childhood sexual abuse. But every time I thought I had finally fit two pieces of me back together, I would see a new pile of all that was shattered in a corner I didn’t see before. I pleaded with God to put me back together. After all, He promises “He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds” (Psalm 147:3, ESV). Surely healing meant He would put me back together.

As I have walked this journey, I have come to understand healing isn’t what I envisioned it would be. I thought of healing as God putting the broken pieces of me back together like a puzzle. While I can’t possibly put all the countless pieces of me back into the places they were before, I was certain God could. Yet, He hasn’t. His healing isn’t about putting me back together. It’s about making the old new.

His healing isn’t about putting me back together. It’s about making the old new. Click To Tweet

The problem with putting the pieces back together is that once the pieces were fitted where they were to begin with, they provide an appearance of wholeness yet are still fractured. A puzzle put together still breaks in the same places. It appears whole, you see the entire picture the pieces come together to create, yet it’s perpetually broken, fractured forever. God’s healing won’t put the pieces back together to give me an appearance of wholeness while leaving me still broken. So what is He doing instead?

God isn’t putting me together like a puzzle. When He looks at the chaotic mess of my scattered shards, He sees a new work of art as only an Artist can. He not only sees this new work of art, He begins creating it. He picks up each broken piece of me, lovingly cleans it and polishes it, and He places it in its new place in the mosaic He is making out of me.

When He looks at the chaotic mess of my scattered shards, He sees a new work of art... Click To Tweet

A mosaic, you see, is made by taking broken pieces and arranging them into a work of art held in place by some kind of glue or cement. That glue holds all those broken pieces together as one work of art. It is whole yet comprised of what was once broken. But the eyes of the artist saw beauty in the midst of the broken, and created something new out of what once was old. Unlike a puzzle, a mosaic, though made of broken pieces, is completely whole. It is held together, cemented in place, so it can’t be taken apart.

God, the Master Artist, looks at the shards of my brokenness and sees beauty that I can’t. The abuse that broke me cannot be undone (trust me, I’ve tried), but God uses the brokenness and creates a new mosaic. He doesn’t place all those shattered pieces back where they once were to create the appearance of wholeness. No, He does more than that. He honors the story of each broken piece, polishing it off, and places it in the glue of His grace and mercy and love. That glue can never be broken again. Out of old, broken pieces, He is fashioning a beautiful, new mosaic.

Of course, the brokenness can be seen and each shard still has a story to tell, but the glue of His faithfulness holding all the pieces together creates a whole piece of art that tells of His goodness through the brokenness. It tells of a love that refuses to leave me shattered. Healing is not putting the pieces of me back together. It’s much greater than that. Healing is making a new work of art…wholeness made out of brokenness.

...the glue of His faithfulness holding all the pieces together creates a whole piece of art... Click To Tweet

As I said at first, I don’t know of anyone in this life who has escaped brokenness, and I don’t know what it is that broke you and left you in pieces. So my dear and precious sisters, broken and scattered, take heart. He is not putting the old you back together. He is not merely fitting pieces of an old puzzle back where they once were so all can see where you broke.

He loves you too much to leave you with the appearance of wholeness yet perpetually broken. He is taking all the broken pieces of who you used to be and artfully creating a new masterpiece, telling a story of how you are being put back together…a story of how where you have walked will shape who you become. You, my dear sister, are not a puzzle to be fit back together into the old. You are a mosaic being masterfully made new.

Trustworthy: Coming to Jesus with Broken Pieces and Open Hands