Lessons from a Former Broken Girl & The Sweetest Gift

It doesn’t end. I wish that I could tell you that one day you will be over it. Whatever it is. Abuse. Neglect. Abandonment. Death. Loss. Scars that no one else sees. The heart doesn’t forget. But, a wise woman told me not too long ago…He removes the sting. She could see the sting all over me and she was right. It doesn’t sting anymore.

When the hurt runs deep there are layers upon layers that only Christ can break through. Broken pieces that look like you, words that cut, everything placed before you and you take it because you think you have to, but you don’t. Let it shatter, your yesterday, your broken life, and watch what God does with it. One day it will be a masterpiece, I pinkie promise. God doesn’t take our pain without offering something sweeter in return.

He takes your pain for you with a love that your mind cannot fathom because He is love. He bore your sorrows in the shape of cross and bloody stripes on His back that can heal the hurt that no man sees. He carries your pain. And just in case this hasn’t been modeled out before you, our Daddy God is the perfect gentleman. Perfect, no air of superiority or fist waved above you. God is not like that. He will not pry the hurt from your hand or order you to let it go. You have to give it to Him. It’s your gift of surrender as you rip off your victim label, resigning your unofficial title of the walking wounded. Hurt can make you bitter, or it can sweeten you to love Him like none other. Can I tell you? Can I beg you to choose the latter?

This is not a holly, jolly topic but there are those who can’t sing the choir songs or deck the halls because they are hurting. They grieve and go through the motions hoping that someone will take notice with something actually worthwhile to say. They are numb and distracted standing on shaky legs because they no longer walk in strength because they walk the walk of wannabe survivor trying to keep their heads above water. Can I beg you to choose your words carefully to the fragile, or say nothing at all?

“But no man can tame the tongue. It is an unruly evil, full of deadly poison. With it we bless our God and Father, and with it we curse men, who have been made in the similitude of God. Out of the same mouth proceed blessing and cursing. My brethren, these things ought not to be so. Does a spring send forth fresh water and bitter from the same opening? Can a fig tree, my brethren, bear olives, or a grapevine bear figs? Thus no spring yields both salt water and fresh.” (James 3:8-12)

To the mother that just gave her baby up for adoption with ache and longing running through her bones and empty arms… you gave life and you gave a gift that the barren woman rejoices over. It’s okay to hurt and dream of a day when you are ready to mother for good. You are still a mother, you will always be. But sweet girl, you gave life and you gave a gift. So I say thank you on behalf the child that will grow up happy because you gave life.

To the mother that buried her beloved; your tears do not go unnoticed. God sees you and holds the hand of the one you lost…but don’t’ forget He’s holding your hand too. Squeeze it. Close your eyes and remember the hope of heaven because it’s real and waiting for you.

To the woman abandoned and left behind. Breathe deeply and grieve deeply, joy will come again in the morning for the Lord is near to the brokenhearted. He pours in the oil and wine, bandages your gaping wounds, and whispers the sweetest love song that sounds like this, “I am your husband. I see your worth and your beauty so find your safety in me. My soul provision will blow your mind because I am not capable of failing you.”

The sweetest gift you may give someone this Christmas is persistent, liquid prayers.
The sweetest gift you can give yourself with clinched fists is the release that comes from knowing God fights the battles for you as you let go of your “right” to be angry. Shake your fist at the enemy of your soul, not at man, for God will grant you victory. Fight the good fight.

Hurting people hurt people. If you can see through that and their lies…it hurts a little less. But, it still hurts so let God take it. Today, right now, choose salty tears over a root of bitterness that grows deep. Choose a spring of life yielded to the heart of God…not salt water that stings.

Today I choose joy. Today I choose fresh water over salty. Today I choose a heart that doesn't sting. I embrace the sweetest gift, my Savior came wrapped in flesh...and that my friends, is real reason to be jolly.

Much love to you from a Former Broken Girl,
Jennifer

Pavement and Pain

Tonight as my family took a walk together, the girls on scooters, and us by foot. We strolled and laughed as I remembered former walks down this same path with much smaller girls. Memories of sidewalk chalk and popsicles in summertime air and being bundled up with frosty breath in the winter lingered in my mind of our mileage down our favorite path. And just as my oldest became more confident on the scooter she fell. I watched the entire accident wishing that I had fallen instead. I wanted to break her fall, not bandage her wounds because that is what love does. Love makes you want to take the pain so they don’t have to hurt, bleed, and cry. Love makes you want to be the cushion and not the pavement. Love makes you want to lessen the blow by rushing out to buy the perfect size band-aid.

I think about wounds far worse.

“He was wounded for our transgressions.”

“He was bruised for our iniquity.” (Is 53:5 KJV)

As I ponder shades of blue that run deep with a sinless life.

I whisper, “This is what love does… for me.”

Love wrapped Himself up in death so that I might live. Deep within me I know that there are moments that I am not living life in the abundance that Christ purchased for me. Why not? It’s paid for in full, it’s a done deal. How could I not walk in prosperity of soul when I have this assurance; the God of all creation sent His perfect son to buy my pardon and He has scars to prove it.

Jesus has scars.

And by His stripes we are healed.

The inner scars that no one else sees, He cradles it in His hands as He longs to be the cushion instead of the pavement that painfully took our breath away. Sometimes we see the fall coming and there is nothing that we can do except brace ourselves knowing that God will be there to kiss our wounds.

Your marriage might be your pavement right now with cracks and potholes so big that you feel like you can no longer travel down it. Your grownup children making poor decisions might be your pavement, you might feel like you are watching them fall in slow motion and there is nothing that you can do but call on the name of Jesus.

So, I say to your pavement scars, with scars of my own, that by His stripes we are healed. Only He can make your mess a masterpiece. I can’t tell you how He does it; I just know that He does.

"I have come that they might have life, and that they might have it more abundantly." (John 10:10)

Lord,
I don't want to waste any more time on pavement, I want to live that abundant life that you have purchased for me. Heal my wounds and turn my eyes off of the payment and fix them on You!

Amen.