Sweet, sweet October. She is birthed into sunshine, and even in her baby stage, she sends me out on adventure.
Today begins the 31 day blogging adventure. I'm joining hundreds of women. We've picked different topics, and we're writing on them. Thirty-one days.
Last year, I wrote on Prayer and wow. What a life-changing gift. I brainstormed this year wondering what I could possibly write about for 31 days. I want a topic that will change me, something that could maybe impact others too. "Meaningful is most Memorable," somebody said once upon a time.
So, while I was brainstorming, brokenness came to mind amongst a lieu of random ideas. But I snagged on that one. Brokenness.
I'm not even sure what that means.
I have heard about Jesus' body being BROKEN Bread.
I've read about how the the Lord is near to those with BROKEN hearts.
I've said that I'm BROKEN countless times and have heard the word ping-ponged in Christian circles.
But what does it mean to be broken?
What does it mean to LOVE the broken?
Is brokenness something I'm called to or called out of?
How are brokenness and humility intertwined? Or are they?
What are we really describing when we say "brokenness?" Is it just an abstract concept or are there other words?
So I'm left with questions and a wild adventure ahead of me. I don't imagine this will be easy, but I hope it will be worth it.
So Lord? Would You please guide these words? Would You allow me into this conversation with You? And Jesus, if it takes my brokenness to understand this more fully and to be who You want me to be, . . . please . . . break me. You know my reluctance in asking for this. That prayer is hard. But I am Yours, and You are trustworthy. On to adventures? I love You.
So until tomorrow, I leave you with this:
God uses broken things. It takes broken soil to produce a crop, broken clouds to give rain, broken grain to give bread, broken bread to give strength. It is the broken alabaster box that gives forth perfume. It is Peter, weeping bitterly, who returns to greater power than ever. Vance Havner