Purposeful Brokenness


The life in ones veins. The path to their walk. The table in which they sup at.

Purpose is so important.
Without purpose, a person will feel unfulfilled, lost, and depressed.
We are masters at creating a fabricated purpose, one that tries so very hard to pave the way to happiness and contentment, but we fail so many times. Women are especially good at overextending themselves because they think keeping busy equals purposed fulfilled. Alas, that same old feeling of desolation and disappointment still linger, despite how full the calendar is.
There are some who look for their purpose by comparing and mimicking others. They try their hardest to adapt their lives and skills to fit the mold that another possesses because they feel that their  purpose is looks sparkly, shiny, and worth something.
Let me share with you my purpose right now. But first, let me warn you. It’s nothing sparkly. It’s not neat. In fact, it’s messy. But it’s mine.
Are you asking, “Can that even be someone’s purpose and calling?”
I assure you, I asked the very same question.
In fact, sitting at my laptop for the last few days I have a note to myself that says, “Maybe my brokenness IS my purpose?” 
Those feelings of discontentment and loneliness have reared their ugly heads a number of times in the last year. Purpose was a distant and illusive thought in my life. I wanted it. Desired it. But wasn’t really understanding where it was.
Then this thought popped in my mind.
What if, in this season, being broken was enough?
What if my feelings of sorrow, and sadness were more than just something I needed to get past? Was I forcing out of my life something that God had placed there for a reason? Perhaps. But I still wasn’t convinced.
Then I began to look into God’s Word. Were there any people who God used who had the vocation of “the sad guy”? Oh my, yes there were. There are so many people who’s ministry, for a season, was to be broken. From this wreck of emotions, the most comforted words were formed. The most amazing plans were revealed. And the most beautiful gifts were given.
This guy was really in the trenches. His best friend’s Dad is chasing him down to kill him. His own son tried to off him for the throne. And his child died due to his very sin. If this doesn’t fill the position of broken one, I don’t know what would. Yet, look at the book of Psalms. Chapter upon chapter is full of God’s love, mercy, comfort, and glory. Not a single word could have been penned without David understanding his humanity and pain.
This prophet knew what it meant to lament. We have a whole book full of his cries out to God because of his heartache over Israel’s sin and punishment. Battered and broken, this man was given the Word of God, not shunned and put in a corner because he was torn up with sorrow.
Sweet Hannah, a woman close to my heart. She knew the ache of being without a child to hold in her arms. She was mocked and ridiculed by her husband’s other wife who easily had children and was sure to rub it in her face. Yet Hannah willingly took her splitting heart and laid it at the feet of her Lord in prayer. Sweat and tears were mingled together with a hope that God would even just listen to her petition.
All three of these folks, and dozens more, are pictures of those who went through seasons of being broken and God was right there with them, using it for His purpose.
I want to be that. I fully embrace now that I am one hot mess from day-to-day. I thought I was doing OK, but I was fooling myself. The heartbreak in my very soul runs so deep that I can’t help but carry it with me every moment. Sure, I smile, laugh, and dance. I thank God that I can do these things. But the heaviness is always there, crushing me, and making me fall constantly to my knees.
I see that my purpose in this season of life is to be utterly, completely and fully broken. I’m finally embracing it. Kind of because I just can’t hide it, some because I’m tired trying to be something I am not, but mostly because God desires me to take hold of my humanity and let him take hold of me.
We shall see what this season, what this purpose for my life will bring. Maybe like David I will pen words of comfort to share with others in the pit of despair. Maybe like Jeremiah, I will hear from God. Or maybe, just maybe, God will grant me the desires of my heart, like Hannah, that I can not even utter.
Posted March 12, 2016

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