God Loves Broken Things

Here I sit, conducting a mental inventory of all the broken things in our home.

The song Broken, by Kenneth Cope comes to my mind. The lyrics he writes claim that God loves broken things.

Why? I question incredulously.

What is there to be desired in broken things?

I decide to start a study of brokenness. I start by taking pictures of some of the objects in our home and contemplating what caused their broken state.

But wait! There’s more…

The oven drawer hangs on its side; almost every doorknob in this house has some quirk (most of them don’t work unless you twist left); a good number of our books have been written on, ripped or damaged in some way when I wasn’t on my guard; and most recently a towel rack in the bathroom was mistaken for monkey bars and now sits on the counter waiting to be reinforced to the wall.

So, when these broken things stare back at me day in and day out, I wonder. I wonder when my husband will get around to fixing everything… haha!

AND I wonder how the most perfect being in the universe loves imperfectness, brokenness.

A couple of insights.

A few of the thoughts that have occurred as I’ve pondered this are: broken hearts turning people to God, water breaking to bring forth a child, muscle fibers tearing, then repairing themselves to become stronger, a broken economy bringing people again, to their knees.

As I was studying in 1 Corinthians 15, I found verses 53 through 57 applicable. They mention that corruptible things must become incorrupt and mortal things must become immortal through Christ. Specifically verse 57 stood out to me. It says “…thanks be to God, which giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ.”

These verses helped identify one reason God might love broken things. They are there to praise and glorify Him.

If we were unbroken, we would have no need for a Savior. If we made no mistakes, and never felt pain or brokenness, why would we turn to our Heavenly Father for help, peace, comfort or direction? We wouldn’t. And we wouldn’t thank Him for the gift of His Son either because we wouldn’t glory in the gift, nor in the giver of the gift (Doctrine and Covenants 88:33).

The whole need no physician (Mark 2:17).

On the flip side…

The physician needs the sick, the broken, the bruised.

Without brokenness, the repairman would be out of a job. Without sickness, what would a doctor do all day? My husband is an engineer. His job is to find ways to fix problems and improve processes. If there were no problems, his job wouldn’t exist. That’d be a problem.

I feel the same is probably true of our Father in Heaven. One reason He might love broken things is because they give Him eternal purpose.

Along those same lines

God finds joy in seeing us overcome our natural selves. He knows our potential and when we falter or misstep, He sees only that we have moved forward.

Just as a parent of a new toddler does not rebuke their child when they fall, but rather cheers for their progress and helps them up, so our Father in Heaven is pleased with our efforts and encourages our continued improvement.

It is in the making of mistakes that we learn. It is in the struggle that we grow. It is brokenness that often pushes us to reach beyond ourselves and seek help to become more than we can on our own. Then, that effort is blessed with a result that truly surpasses who we thought we could be and in turn, we glorify the Father who made us, stretched us, then healed us.

Forward, Pressing Forward

God is extending His arm to you and me in our lost, fallen and broken state. We have stumbled and we will stumble again, but we can make the most of every mistake by falling forward, pressing forward with our eyes single to the glory of God.

All that being said, do I look around at all the broken things in my home with fondness? Not quite. My perspective has shifted though.

I am forever grateful for the insights I’ve received with regard to my own broken state and how my brokenness is looked upon by the One who can and will weld each crack and make me perfectly whole someday.