Blessed and Broken

If there are two things I know about myself, they are these: I am blessed. And I am broken. I think the Christianity that I’ve heard most of my life considers these as two separate things. That is, either they mark different times in your life or they describe two different types of people. Too many Christians I’ve known think that faith “fixes” you to the point where everything is ok and you move past the broken part of life.

But that’s not what I’ve found Christianity to be. I am not “fixed.” In being a Christian, I have not automatically become who God wants me to be – or even who I want me to be, for that matter. But, I am so blessed because I am so broken. If I thought everything was fine or that I had any chance of succeeding on my own, that would really get in the way of my faith. Knowing I can’t is what draws me to God. Because in him I find all the things that I can’t find anywhere else in this world: peace, comfort, unfailing love. In him I find the answers that no one else can give me. I don’t always like those answers, but they are always the answers I need.

I hate when I screw up. I hate when I do something I know doesn’t represent who I want to be. I don’t like being afraid, and I don’t like worrying. But those moments are invaluable because they remind me I’m broken. And they remind me how incredibly blessed I am that there is one person who will always love me anyway.