There's a song I heard once that I really didn't like. It was something like "God Loves Broken Things." I didn't like the tune, the word choices, or the way the guy sang.

But the song has stuck with me, even though I can't remember the tune or any of the words, and I still remember the feeling I had when I looked inside and realized that I was broken... and that was okay.

Broken can mean a lot of things. It's the feeling of abject despair when total and absolute depression sets in - the real kind they make medication for, but doesn't always respond, no matter what I try. It's the realization that all the work I've done over years can't open the doors I need to move forward, or yet another full batch of relationships gone wrong. Dreams shattered, life in oblivion, and an apathy towards reality that pulls me from society and pushes all but those closest to me away.

I used to feel like I had no right to be powerless, no right to be depressed, no right to be broken or despondent. The sheer reality that I was, made life even worse - a cycle that pulled me deeper and deeper, until I finally let go.

Being broken has some interesting physical correlations. When I run a gazillion miles, eventually my body runs out of energy completely. At least, in the moment, it feels that way. It's sudden, and, in an instant the simple act of walking or running or biking or whatever is like pushing through mud or molasses. From all outside respects, it looks like there's really no hope unless I go eat something with a whole lot of sugar. I'm broken. But, inside, opaque to my perspective, a miracle is happening. When my body runs out of energy in the form of glucose and glycogen, my muscles switch fuels. Glucose is replace with ketone, and proteins are broken down into emergency glucose for indispensable nervous functions. Even my brain switches. And, as soon as the adaptation is over, life moves on.

I feel like the Lord is often trying to teach me something when I hit the wall spiritually and emotionally. When I feel like I've been run over by a Mack truck, or like the world is going to cave in on me... because at those times, I'm forced to look at my life and refocus on the Lord. Sometimes the rope that I'm holding on to, hoping that it will pull me up, is friendship. Sometimes it's my own will. Sometimes it's just stubbornness.

But in most cases, the rope I was holding on to wasn't a rope that would ever pull me up. It would only pull me down... and when I learned to accept reality, to be okay with being broken, that gave the Lord a chance to help me see where I needed to change.

Right now I'm broken. Physically, emotionally, socially, professionally... I feel like everything is shattering around me in every facet I can dream. Every facet but one. I know God loves me, that I'm giving my best, and that, no matter what happens, He will be with me.

And maybe that's why I'm broken - so that I can learn to better rely on the Lord instead of everything else in my life. To help me see that, when nothing else can, He has the power to bring me from the depths and do more than just fix me. From the broken pieces of my life, He creates something better than before... if I'm willing to let Him. And then I move on, until it's time to be broken once again.
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