Breaking Myself

Broken people break people.  
Broken people break people.
Broken people break people.

This sentence has been echoing in my mind all day.  I woke up this morning and that was what my mind seemed to tell me, as if I had been thinking it over all night.  So, as I started my day I tried to think of specific broken people in my life.  Maybe this is something God laid upon my heart.  Maybe it’s something I have just been thinking about without realizing it.  Either way, the one broken person I seem to keep coming back to was…  

Yes, I’m broken.  I have jagged edges and broken corners in several areas of my life.  I have scars from past brokenness.  For example, I come from divorced parents, and no matter how much I try to pretend watching my parents decide that “I do” wasn’t forever at the age of 8 didn’t affect me: it did.  Something breaks inside a child’s heart when Mommy and Daddy are not who they get to eat dinner with each night, who they get hugged by before going to sleep, who they get to recant the whole school day to every afternoon at home.  Something breaks inside of a child when they have to settle for one and not two, no matter how spectacular that one is.  Something breaks.  

Something also breaks inside a girl’s heart every time she’s told she isn’t good enough, especially by someone she loves more than herself.  Even in my world of caution, there was that one boy — the one I gladly handed my heart over to, the one who broke my heart without even knowing it.  Something breaks inside a person when any failed relationship is accepted as a personal failure.  

Something breaks inside a person when they know they have to give up what they really want in the name of sacrifice.  I wanted a normal life — college, law school, career, family, retirement.   I wanted the stability and security it brought.  But then I was asked to give it away, to just give it away if I really had the faith I claimed to have.  So I did, but it broke me.  Something broke.  

Something breaks inside when you go against your principles and compromise for someone.  When you give up a piece of yourself to someone who never deserved it in the first place, you willingly break off a piece of yourself.  Something breaks when you compromise who you are for who someone wants you to be.  Something breaks…and that something is YOU.  That something is ME.

Broken people break people.  

I’ve deduced that I am, indeed, broken.  I’m broken in a lot of ways — or have been broken in a lot of ways.  A lot of the past brokenness was not my fault.  I cannot take back how others have broken me.  But presently this brokenness is my own fault.  I am the broken person who is only breaking myself.  

I believe the lies.  I compromise.  I hide.  I pretend.   I break.  

I know that there’s one way to stop breaking myself and that’s to do just that:  stop.  For me, I know the only way I’m going to stop breaking myself is to give that power up.  For me, that means throw my hands up in wild abandon to the only One who can make me whole — God.  For He is holy, and I wholly need Him.

He gives love.  He forgives.  He offers refuge.  He brings truth.  He makes all things new.  

Tonight I cling to God instead of my broken past.  Tonight I cling to Him and His Word.  
“The Lord is near the brokenhearted; He saves those crushed in spirit.”  -Psalm 34:18 



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~Child of God ~Native Southerner ~Sister to the most amazing sisters, Rach and Shana ~Auntie to the best little man (Roo) and sweetest little girl (Elle) ~Partner to the most incredible man, my Marco ~Hobby photographer ~Enjoyer of the simple things in life

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