Running Headlong Into Brokenness Again
When heartache and loss create unanswered questions
I originally published this piece almost two years ago. But I’m on an “alone retreat” in a tiny house in the woods this weekend, I forgot today was Sunday, and since I’m here to try and heal from brokenness in my past, I thought this was fitting. I’ve made some tweaks to the original since writing styles change over the years, but the premise is the same. I hope it speaks to you!
I tend to be an optimist—to the point where my rosy glasses can get me into trouble. I always want to find the good, offer another chance, and hold onto hope. But sometimes we run headlong into brokenness that we just can’t ignore or pretend away.
No Bible verse, Christian saying, or pat answer wrapped in a bow is good enough. Instead we are left with silence and an crowd of uncomfortable questions.
God, are you real? Are you here? Do you care? Are you listening?
Why would you let this happen?
Did you actually hear my prayers, see my tears, and feel my pain?
If you love me, why didn’t you do something?
If you love them, why didn’t you step in?
More often than not, my desperate questions have been met by silence. Initially. Until I cry my tears, stop my angry shouting, and settle down. Then I realize that I am being gently held and quietly loved. And as my breath slows, I begin to hear a soft whisper in my soul.
Some people point to the brokenness in our world as proof that God doesn’t exist. If an all-powerful God was real, surely he wouldn’t let such bad things happen. But I wonder if the anger, frustration, and loss that we feel isn’t actually evidence of God after all.
We all know it’s not supposed to be this way. We long for more than this world offers us. There is an innate sense that the brokenness we experience is wrong. Because we were made for more.
The range of emotions that we can experience as humans is incredible. I know that not all of us are comfortable with them due to personality, upbringing, etc., but I’d like to encourage you to begin to accept them. Joy and sadness, peace and anger, positive and negative. Hold them, feel them, embrace them, and learn from them.
Brokenness pushes us to a place of vulnerability that can become beautiful if we will let it. Like the rocks on the edge of Lake Superior who have spent seasons battered by the waves until they are round and smooth, brokenness can soften us. It can lead us to a place of humility and openness. A place where we discover that we don’t have all the answers anymore. And where we learn to be okay with that.
In my own seasons of brokenness—as I’ve sat without answers or a way forward—I’ve stubbornly clung to faith in a Real God. A God I can’t always see, feel, or understand, but a God who has never let me go. And I have found peace despite the pain, peace that makes no sense.
“Then you will experience God’s peace, which exceeds anything we can understand. His peace will guard your hearts and minds as you live in Christ Jesus.” Philippians 4:7 (NLT)
Do you notice the word “then” in that verse? Something more came before it. This is a cause and effect situation. What causes this unexplainable peace?
“Don’t worry about anything; instead, pray about everything. Tell God what you need, and thank him for all he has done.” Philippians 4:6 (NLT)
Tell God what you need and thank him for what he has done. It’s my relationship with Jesus that has held me through the heartache and loss I have faced, face now, and will continue to face. I’ve cried with him, yelled at him, and questioned him. And Jesus has held me. He has reminded me of all the things that he has done. And he has given me peace that defies human understanding in the middle of my brokenness.
I pray He does the same for you.
Today, in my tiny cabin in the snow, I am going back into my past to accept the fact that it was more broken than I want to admit. Those rosy glasses I talked about in the beginning are often a way for me to bypass truth. Spiritual and emotional bypassing sometimes feel like a Christian virtue, but trust me, they are not. And today as I sit in the broken places of my past, I know that the Holy Spirit will meet me here just as He always has. I may not get answers or reasons, but I will be held and loved as I grieve. And that is enough.
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Thank you for sharing this. I am working to look at and accept my own brokenness. I have a kintsugi kit that I have not had the courage to start yet… but I will. I think that showcases what you speak to here. Maybe one day I’ll have a piece to show you here. Thanks for the reminders.
"In my own seasons of brokenness—as I’ve sat without answers or a way forward—I’ve stubbornly clung to faith in a Real God. A God I can’t always see, feel, or understand, but a God who has never let me go. And I have found peace despite the pain, peace that makes no sense." Beautiful. Thank you for sharing. Like you, I have also clung to Real God, even with life was almost to much to bear. God bless you as you continue sharing your heart, faith, and the Real Jesus.