The right kind of broken

What would it look like if we stopped living “broken”? I’ve heard this said so many times in Christian circles: “We are all broken…” “This is a broken world…” “I’m just a broken woman in need to a savior…” And, I understand the thinking behind it. I understand that it is intended to be an indication of humility, a recognition that we are desperate humans in need of something beyond ourselves.

But, lately… I’ve been questioning whether this concept of “brokenness” has to be emphasized the way that it is. Often, the way that it translates, is “unworthy.” That “broken” is who we are, not what we are. That “broken” is an inherent, internal condition and not simply a characteristic of God’s people. A child knows “broken” as meaning – cannot be fixed; worthless; unable to function the way it’s supposed to… they see “broken” and hear “throw it away.” They understand it to mean there’s no value in it anymore.

The problem with this word “broken” is that people who already feel unworthy can further internalize the message that there is simply nothing good about them and it is, in fact, impossible for them to be thought of as “good.” As Christians, we are quick to jump in and say, “But Jesus! God Loves you!” and then it gets tricky because the question follows, “If God loved me, why did He make me so broken? so unworthy? Why did He make me someone who He couldn’t love unless He killed someone else first? Yes, that suggests that He does love me, but why did He make me so messed up to begin with?”

Today, I thought about this in terms of my kids. Since they were born, I’ve felt conflicted with the thoughts that they are gifts from God, but also inherently broken. My goal is to love them, yes, but also to raise them in a way that helps them see their own brokenness, their own unworthiness. At the height of my honest efforts to be a “good Christian mother,” I’ve told them that their hearts are bad and that nothing they can do is good enough to please God. While there is an element of truth in these things, 30 years into being a Christian, I – and lots of others, I know – find that this understanding of ourselves has not produced wonderful, spiritually mature believers who are grounded in their identity in Christ. Instead, we struggle with feelings of worthlessness, we feel like hypocrites, we don’t believe that we deserve anything good in this life, and we suffer from imposter syndrome anytime something good comes our way. We are always waiting for the other shoe to drop. We fear that others will see what we have always known – we are broken in unfixable ways and there is nothing in us that could be considered good or valuable to anyone else.

There is, of course, another kind of “brokenness” – one that reflects a sense of sadness or maybe an overwhelming feeling of compassion. You could also say that there is an element of helplessness in it, too, an inability to make something right. THIS is the good kind of “broken.” The kind that we will all experience sometime in life. It’s what we feel when we lose a loved one or see or experience something horrific. It’s what compels communities to turn out in droves to support a cause and individuals to make heroic efforts to help others. But, the main difference between this “broken” and the one above, is that this “broken” refers to a state of the heart, not the state of the person.

I know that some can hear that first message of “brokenness” and not be utterly wounded by it. They are able to see that their failings should enable them to feel greater compassion for others. They can wear the badge of “broken” like an honor, almost, recognizing that it is precisely this state that enables them to welcome the grace of God.

But, for the rest of us, who feel devastated enough already, who don’t need a holy, blameless figure heaping more condemnation on us, what if we thought of ourselves as blessed instead? What if we thought of ourselves as imbued with a mission to love others in the very special ways only we, as the unique individual we were created to be, can do? What if we thought of ourselves as ones created with an incredible calling on our lives? What kind of people would we become then? What if we believed in our inherent value and amazingness, with the knowledge that this life is what we can make of it? What would we look like 30 years into that journey?

As I watch my kids, I realize that I want them to experience a broken spirit, but to know that they themselves are not broken. I want them to have a contrite heart but not live as though they are condemned. I want to see what happens if they grow up believing that they are treasured and loved as gifts; gifts that can and will know the brokenness we experience anytime we open ourselves to love, but knowing that they have the power and ability to respond to that brokenness with even greater love!

I know there are people who will try to explain all the potential “faith” problems that could come with this approach. But, at this time in my life, I’m realizing that there are a lot of beliefs I need to let go of and one of them is this idea that my children – and me – are “broken.” Since I decided this, I do look at my children, and myself(!), differently. I don’t see us as people who need to change, who need to believe or behave in a certain way in order to be accepted and redeemed. I see my boys as these incredible little persons with wonderful imaginations and opinions, meaningful insights, deep-felt desires, and quirky personalities that have great things to offer to the world. I see myself as someone who has power, courage, compassion, and can be loved and accepted just as I am.

If I can hold these truths in my mind as my children grow, and if I can speak this life into them, I have faith that they will become the kind of people who know “broken” but don’t see themselves that way. And if I can hold these truths in my mind for myself, and speak this life over myself, I have faith that I will become a woman who uses her blessedness through the brokenness to speak life and truth over others.

Do you identify as broken or blessed? If you believe you are “broken” (in the first sense, here), what effect – good or bad – has that had in your life? How might your life be different if you let go of the belief that you are broken (and have been all your life) and chose to believe yourself blessed and redeemed just as you are?