Broken

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We are ALL broken people
Born into a broken world
We ALL, have hurtful stories to share about our lives,
every-single-one-of-us.
For we are ALL broken,
In need of continual repair
Broken, broken, broken
With scars so deep,
many of us, are amazed, to see every day it is, that we see.
Yet, in this brokenness,
There IS, The Hope Giver,
The Hope liver, The Hope repairer
And so, as we choose, to give Him our hurt, we realize, whether now or later, that truly, He Himself, can relate
To the worst and darkest of pain, and not just relate, but bore the stripes
the torment, deadly persecution
in His complete innocence
That there’d indeed, be an exchange, that in Him,
There’d come glory from our story
That in Him, we’d have testimonies (plural)
That despite, the trauma,
Despite, the deep scars,
Despite, the memories,
that ultimately,
When people, and even ourselves
look at us, we’d see,
the blood of Christ
flowing forth from our wounds.
That light would shine forth
out of our cracks and brokenness.
That ultimately, we and others would witness, the power of the torture, excruciating, unimaginable pain and suffering that our Messiah endured on our behalf, that that brokenness, would be ye restored
And we’d be,Walking restoration in demonstration
Amazed by His power.

It’s like, I see a mosaic, broken pieces put back together, though this time, fused with an eternal glue that seals.

May our brokenness, testify Father, of Your power, and redemption in our lives. Thank You, for helping us, to DO avail ourselves, to this supernatural work of You, while knowing, that You are creating a beautiful masterpiece, even with our broken pieces. Amen.

Inspiration: Written in my heart for decades, but finally written in ink, after having watched the movie “I Can Only Imagine” after like, the third time or so, and seeing the pain that resurfaced as my husband and I, watched it. Yet, my cry out, was to continue to allow the Father, to have His way, in the healing process and KNOW, that it WAS indeed, happening, even at that very moment, despite all of the gamut of emotions I felt. And the proof, was even in by just being able to witness this spoken word flow forth.
Written by sepia gladden
All Rights Reserved 2019

 

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