Broken

I'm broken. 

No really, I am.  True story.   I broke my wrist about 2 weeks ago playing capture the flag.  (Yeah, I know, you can laugh.  It's ok.  I can't hear you anyway.) 

I know in the grand scheme of things a broken wrist is quite inconsequential.  But nevertheless, it was unexpected and unwanted. It is keeping me from being able to work.  And from doing a whole lot of seemingly menial tasks like applying deodorant, opening jars/bottles, doing the dishes and taking out the trash.   I learned overnight that being broken necessitates help.

My doctor put me in a fracture brace and told me not to use my left arm.  I'm right handed so I wasn't too worried.  As one might suppose, almost immediately upon getting home I found I needed my left hand.  My trash can was practically overflowing.  It was gross and smelled bad.  So with my good arm I began the process of trying to take the trash bag out of the trash can.  Only I couldn't pull the bag closed, much less tie it, with one hand.  So I decided to take the bag out of the can without it being tied.  Try as I did, the only part of the bag that budged was the piece I was gripping tightly as it tore from the bag.  Are you kidding me? Grrr.  I'll be honest, I had a little bit of girl drama at this point.  "Well this is just AWESOME.  I guess I get to spend the next 4 weeks with this nasty trash just sitting here stinking up the place."  I was beyond frustrated.  I couldn't even do a simple thing like taking out the trash.  I stared at that trash for a long time.  I thought maybe if I made the load lighter I'd be able to lift it out with one hand.  So I proceeded to pull the topmost pieces of trash out of the bag and into a smaller bag before I quickly got to the uneaten leftover lasagna I'd thrown out the night before.  Sick. 

It was at that point that I realized I was broken.  I needed to ask for help.  Do you know how dumb I felt sending that text?  "Um, hi.  Would you mind coming over and taking my trash out for me?"  Within an hour a dear friend was taking out my trash, doing my dishes, and all sorts of other things I didn't even have to ask her to do.  My place looked great in no time.  It was hard to accept her help.  It was humbling to watch another person to do "my work"; it was even more humbling to allow her to see just how "messy" I am.  Somehow, it was also great.  I felt loved.  Brokenness aside.  I am certain I spent more time pretending I wasn't broken and then being frustrated at the reality that I was, than my friend spent just happily helping a friend.  Me and my foolish pride.

It's intriguing to me how we can so easily point out pride in others, all the while having no clue that we're covered in its stench.   I think that's the way of pride.  Pride, by virtue, is a refusal to see one self as you truly are. 

Jesus makes it clear in John 15:4-5, how we should see ourselves in light of Him.

 "Abide in me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit by itself, unless it abides in the vine, neither can you, unless you abide in me. I am the vine; you are the branches. Whoever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing."
John 15:4-5 ESV

Pride is like a chameleon.  We all wear it differently. Whether we are pompous, self deprecating, or self sufficient, pride has a way of subtly growing roots in each of our hearts. It's refusing to be a branch that requires attachment to the Vine for everything. It's trying to be the Vine with the DNA makeup of a simple branch.  It's refusing to see yourself as God sees you.  Broken and beloved.

The battle against pride is fought on a battlefield of trust.  The antithesis of pride is humility. Humility swims in a pool of brokenness.  Being aware of one's brokenness is being in a perpetual state of vulnerability. (For all of you who are wondering how I feel about being vulnerable, see my last blog post. :)    
http://thesesoulstirrings.blogspot.com/2012/12/threshing-floor.html ). There's nothing comfortable about vulnerability.  Vulnerability begs an answer to the question of where I place my trust . 

Do I trust the Vine to provide ALL of the nutrients I need?  More often than not, my answer is no.  I'm scared.  Too many unknowns, too many risks.  I would rather just skip all of that dependency stuff and figure it out myself. 

The problem?  I AM BROKEN!  I am human.  This means I am DNA hardwired to be a branch.  A branch that's ever and always dependent on the Vine for my life source.  Before my wrist was ever broken, I was crippled.  I was just too prideful to admit it.   I'm a mess.  My mind is warped and thinks thoughts I'd rather not admit.  I put my hands to things of destruction.  I set my feet on paths I ought not walk.   My heart is prone to wander.  It is only by the grace of God that I am sitting here today.

Sure you can deny that you're broken.  You can keep your pride and live life as if you're whole.  But eventually you will end up with dirty hands and piles of trash around you while the trash still sits there stinking up your house.  Denying your brokenness no more makes you whole, than admitting your brokenness makes you defective. 

My wrist is broken.  Regardless of whether I admit it.  The x-rays say so.

Brokenness is the reality of the world we live in.   We're all fractured. We need each other to put eyes to what we cannot see, to encourage us when the weight of our brokenness feels too heavy, and to speak truth when our ears only hear lies.  Sometimes we need each other to just take out the trash.  Admitting you're broken takes the pressure off of trying to be something you're not.  

You know what else happens when you admit you're broken?  The playing field is leveled.  You realize that the receptionist at the doctor's office who was so cold and rude is also broken.  Just like that waitress who got your order wrong.  Suddenly you realize that we're really not all that different.  You begin to extend grace to others as you learn to give grace to yourself.  You realize that the only way to wholeness is Jesus.  And we all need Him.  Not just to save us from hell, but to make us whole- to reconcile us unto Himself and to make us beautiful. 

So why don't we all stop thinking we are vines, or pretending that we are branches who can survive on our own.  We're not fooling anyone.  Jesus said He came for the sick and the broken.  That's me.  That's you.  He sees we are broken and He still calls us beloved. 

I don't know all of the 12 steps, but I've watched enough movies to know the first step is admitting it. 

I am broken.  I am beloved.

"For thus says the One who is high and lifted up,
who inhabits eternity, whose name is Holy:
'I dwell in the high and holy place,
and also with him who is of a contrite and lowly spirit,
to revive the spirit of the lowly,
and to revive the heart of the contrite.'" Isaiah 57:15

 

 

*This song by All Sons & Daughters called "Brokenness Aside" is well worth a listen.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=isY7v61mg_U