I look back over my life and think about the testimonies there in the depths. I compared my life to broken pottery, shattered into pieces as it hits the concrete floor. Some pieces of me disappeared into the crevices of the world never to be found again. I never knew how the pottery of my life would come back together and once upon a time I didn’t care. I didn’t view my life as broken. My life was just different than most, but the same as many.
My life started from the formation of fornication. I was born into the sins my parents were in. I became the object of molestation from brothers’ whose lives resided in darkness. I grew as a child teased, abused and misunderstood. I tried to take my life, hopeless in my environment. I became a teen of anger, resentment and hurt turning these feelings outward to those around me. I grew into a woman who loved hard, yielding the strike of many hands to keep me in their perceived order. I became a woman who was broken. I went into marriage with luggage that was too heavy for us to carry together. He didn’t know how to unpack my past nor I his. The weight of the luggage brought the relationship to its close. The heat of life melted the glue that held us together.
I’m not telling you this to bring tears to your eyes or for the sorrow that is given because underneath all of the dirt arose a new person. But how? Where did my brokenness stop and my wholeness begin that you now see? Not with self-help (tried, not true and failed; sorry big O and TR), not with some spiritual higher power that I connected with through astrology, palm-readers or the like. Not with “him” being my glue, not with just dealing with my issues or debts. Not through some great understanding of life. Barely through counseling, I was still broken.
Did someone tell me I was broken? Maybe a time or two. The route I was on was a slippery slope; the bed I lied in had diseases. The depression was now obvious. Yet in my brokenness, I didn’t want to hear what others’ had to say regardless. My ears closed to their advice. I sat in my room shedding the tears of many years in darkness, still I remained broken.
Yet, while in my brokenness, He helped me to remember Him. I knew of this One since my grandmother had spoken of Him. Was I ready to listen to whom He had now sent? A woman who knew I needed some help out of the darkness? I spent some time in His house, but who was He? Could He hurt me like those of my past? Yet He asked me to trust Him completely and I would be made whole. He said He knew where the lost pieces of my existence were, but He didn’t want to give those back to me. He wanted to give me a new hope, new dream and a new life which wasn’t new to Him. He had already had a plan for me, but somehow I got off course through misdirection. He made promises that I had never heard, but yet they brought comfort to me. He didn’t need to be my glue because I could be whole in Him.
From the beginning, He didn’t promise that it would be easy. He promised He would be with me for an eternity. There was a life eternal waiting that would reap royal benefits beyond compare if I would hold on to the End. The road has a few weeds, thorns and rocks along the way, but because I would choose to follow Him, I would never be broken again, but now bent.
I could withstand not doing what I used to do, or being who I used to be; I could be bent but not broken. No more shattered pieces, but I would bend under His mighty hand to shake loose those things that held me from a good life.
Here I am before you once broken, now bent. You see it takes participation on our behalf when we decide to accept Jesus as our Lord and Savior. Yes, we must work at living for Him through our jobs, children, marriages, ministries and so forth, but we will never be broken again with Him. We can be once broken but because of what Jesus has done on the cross and the power of God, we are now just bent. Bent because God requires some things of us; bent because we must participate without seeing the whole plan. Bent because forgiveness is a must and some hurt may still arise. Even when the being of Fire (Satan) would try and smother us, we can stand with God. Yet never to be broken again.
The way to have a full life without brokenness is to be made whole by God. The way to find the seemingly perfect mate is to be put together by Him. The way to forgive the brothers’ and even the mothers’ is to bend under the mighty hand of the Most High God. Bending, but never broken.
So here I stand, making the decision to share again. For me, it means to tell parts of my struggle, tear-drops and pain with all glory going to God. To tell you that I stopped doing ….is only half true. To tell you that I rose above….is only half the story. To tell you that I struggled with drugs and alcohol, yet in my car one morning asked GOD to take the taste out of my mouth is still a partial story. So yes, for you to really see the amazing power of God, I share. The existence that only rose from the depths of Hell, now riding on God’s glorious light because of what Jesus has done. To God be the glory! In Jesus’ mighty name!
Father, I thank You that I will never forget that only You have caused the hurt to truly dissipate, not just shatter into the crevices of the world. I thank You for what the world calls rising above to some, I call deliverance from God. Unashamedly I’m grateful You don’t have to be glue because what others’ broke, You have made me whole. Father to say that I should not conform? I’m willing! To want to continue to live my own way and not be in the image and likeness of my Father shutters the very bones of my being. Never do I want to return there. I live for You through and through, once broken now bending underneath Your glory. In Jesus Name, Amen.
Be blessed, Bend but don’t remain broken….Dee-Dee McDuffie
dlm/dlm
