He's probably right.
There is oftimes a similar heaviness in ministry...one that comes from trying to carry all the burdens of those around you while attempting to maintain some semblance of self and sanity. I call this, ministering out of brokenness, or in diva speak, walking in stilettos with a broken ankle.
As women, we are faced with many disappointments and difficulties in life--broken marriages, broken children, broken careers and broken finances. And yet, despite our own fragile and broken state, we are called on to help others who are broken. We are charged with keeping our homes and families intact, keeping our careers moving, maintaining our heads above tumultuous fiscal waters, all while balancing on mental, emotional and ofttimes physical stilettos.
We carry within us the shards of our broken hearts, and as a result, find ourselves slicing, cutting, jabbing those around us with the jagged and sharps fragments of our brokenness. We damage those we are called to protect. We wound those we are called to help heal. Some of us are so desperately trying to hold ourselves together, we dare not stretch out a hand to others because we are using both of ours to hold in the pieces. If we let go, even a little bit, we'd find ourselves scattered all over the floor. Then what would everyone think of us? What would those around us say, if they knew that underneath the well tailored suit lie ill-sown sutures bursting at the seams of our wounded souls? Sores of hurt, betrayal and disappointment leaking and oozing with infection that comes from festering unforgiveness that has soured and turned bitter. What if people saw underneath our well placed make-up and foundation lie lesions that have formed keloids and scar tissue, developed from years of rehearsed pain and self-pity.
How do we minister in this broken state? How can we help others live lives full of God's grace and mercy, when don't know how to apply it to our own wounds and issues?
Since bringing my 2nd daughter into my home December of 2014, my finances have shrunk while my household size doubled. And so, I find myself again, balancing in yet another pair of stilettos-these being of the Wells Fargo variety.
As I stare at the calendar and another birthday has come and gone, I find myself just shy of the dreaded 4-0. I don't think I'd have such trepidation and hesitation if I were closer to reaching some of my personal, professional and relationship goals. I am single with no time to mingle and everything on my body is beginning to jingle (despite my 4-5 day a week workout regimen). I often find myself ministering to people who are struggling to deal with the inner demons of self-esteem, relationship woes and single parenthood, all of which are pain points in my own life. I sit, listening to them while wondering what advice or counsel could I possibly give them. We are shopping from the same shoe rack. The size and color may be different, but the stilettos are of the same brand and style.
The Bible says that we when we are broken, that is when God is closest to us. The Psalmist writes, The Lord is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit." (Ps. 34:18, ESV)
I take comfort in knowing that Jesus has walked in my stilettos--at least metaphorically. No, I am not indicating any transgender tendencies on the part of our Savior, but as John and Baptist so pointedly stated, his sandals, we are unworthy to even untie.
Although he carved the ocean floors and painted the horizon with his hands, the creator became the created to redeem his creation back to himself by carrying a cross heavy with my sin. His feet, weary from restless walking from judgement hall to judgement hall, trudged a path spattered with the blood that would save humanity. The shoes he walked in were far more difficult and demanding than any I have or will ever face, and because he has walked in my shoes, he feels and knows my pain. He is well acquainted with the isolation and despondency of loneliness, the pain of having his very identity tested and questioned, and the weight that is felt when others are relying and depending on you for their very existence. He is familiar with the frustration of dealing with church-folk and the hassles of handling haters who try to belittle your gifts and misplace your motives.
I often think of the Last Supper when Jesus took the unleavened bread and blessed it. He then broke it and gave it to the disciples telling them to eat it, thus ushering in the new covenant of grace. He gives them the commandment, "as often as you do this, you remember me." There are a number of beautiful aspects to this word picture.
The first is that we are blessed to be broken and distributed to others to bless them. Because we are blessed, our brokenness is not in vain. We are broken for the purpose of service. We are broken so that in our brokenness we can remember Christ and the sacrifice He made for us. We are broken to help others who are broken! Jesus shared in the Last Supper with a group of broken men--each with their own set of struggles and issues--yet, God used them to change the world.
Jesus instructed the disciples that whenever they came together--broken and bruised in their humanity and the suffering that they would endure as carriers of His gospel--to remember him. Why is that important? The significance lies in the original institution of the Passover meal. When the children of Israel celebrated Passover, they were remembering God's delivering them from the bondage of Pharaoh in Egypt. When the believer celebrates the Lord's Supper, we are remembering Christ's delivering us from the bondage of sin. We, too, must remember that he was bruised for our transgressions and would for our sins. He was broken for us! and it was when He was broken, that we were healed. It was when he laid down His life, that we were able to pick up the pieces of ours and allow the Holy Spirit to use them to benefit others.
Paul writes to the church at Corinth, "Even when we are weighted down with troubles, it is for your comfort and salvation! For when we ourselves are comforted, we will certainly comfort you. Then you can patiently endure the same things we suffer. We are confident that as you share in or sufferings, you will also share in the comfort God gives us. (2 Cor. 1, ESV)
We are broken so that God may comfort us and remind us of His undying, unyielding love for us. We then are charged to reach out and comfort others in their brokenness with the same love and grace with which we have been comforted. To do this, we don't have to have it all together--in fact, true ministry comes from a place of brokenness because it allows others to see the frailty of our humanity and the power of God's grace and love towards us.
Broken? Perhaps. Flawed? Certainly. But blessed? Always! To God be the glory!!
Till the Divas meet again, I remain
In and for His service,
The Divine Diva
