Broken
It’s hard to believe it’s already halfway through April! This year certainly didn’t start our slowly in our household.
It’s been an interesting year thus far. We’ve had two casts (the 2nd is due to come off tomorrow – yay!) and a 2nd car has been down for about 7 weeks. Yes, life has been a bit more interesting. 
But broken hands, broken wrists and broken cars aside, life is moving it’s way along. The girls are very active – one in soccer 2 night a week with games on weekends, and the other with dance on those same two nights (!) and her 2nd recital coming up next month. She’s just a little bit excited to get back to dance once the cast comes off.
Me? I just want my car back.
But in the midst of all of the busy-ness and the broken-ness and the forced stay-put-ed-ness (is that even a word?) God is teaching me. God is teaching me that at times we all get broken. After we are broken, we have a period of rest. A period of healing. And that period of healing isn’t always as long as we expect it to be – and yet still at times seems to stretch for an eternity! But once that time of rest and healing has past, we have to get on with our lives.
We can’t wear the cast forever. If we did, our skin would not like us much. Our broken-ness would never truly heal, because it would never re-gain the strength it needs to function properly.
Have you been broken?
I have. It hurts. Being broken is not fun at all, and I very often lack the patience to step back and allow that time of rest and healing before I jump back into “normal” life. But we need that. We need the chance to allow the healing to take root before we rely on that broken area to support us again.
And once we have given it time to repair, we need to start flexing those muscles again. We need to re-build the strength that once was there. We need to get back into life.
As we approach Easter, I am also reminded that our Savior was broken. He was broken for us – to heal the rift that sin created between us and God. His body was tortured, He gave up His life willingly, and He allowed His disciples to fully experience the broken-ness of His death for a time – but then He brought healing and restoration.
He was broken for me. His broken-ness heals me. It allows me to embrace life and to flex those muscles and gives me that strength that I can rely on – that which was broken has healed to be stronger.
His broken-ness is my strength.
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