The Blessing of Being Broken

I sat in the nurse's office waiting for her. When she came in she quietly closed the door behind her and looked at me with sympathy and said, "I don't want you to be ashamed of who you are but I want you to understand that you are not like other people; from now on you can expect to be in and out of this mental hospital for the rest of your life." It was 1971. In the Spring of that year I had graduated from High School full of excitement about what my future held. In the fall of that year when all my friends were going off to college I was committed to a state mental hospital.

In 1971 state mental hospitals treated their inmates with heavy sedation. I listened to the words spoken to me through a thick haze of confusion and I wondered, "Who am I?" Earlier that year I had been filled with a since of destiny. I wanted only one thing out of my life. I wanted to serve God. But now I wondered, "Could God use broken things?"

I was broken but I took comfort in words of Vance Havner who said that it takes broken soil to produce a crop, broken clouds to give rain, broken bread to give strength. I chose to find my identity not in the words of the well meaning nurse but instead in the word of God. I chose to believe that God had chosen me in Christ before the foundation of the world. I chose to believe that I was God's workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that I should walk in them. But because I was broken I also understood that I could do nothing in my own strength. The service that I would offer to the God I love would be done not by my strength but his.

The nurse's bleak prediction of my life in and out of mental hospitals never materialized. However, my life has had many chapters of brokenness and each one has taught me to see more clearly what God has done for me than what I can do for God.  Today I am experiencing a different kind of brokenness.  Because of my brain tumor I have a loud and constant ringing in my head; sometimes I find this very distracting and it makes it hard to focus my thoughts. The tumor has also caused me to be partially deaf so in crowds I often find myself retreating because I'm unsure of what is being said. The tumor is on my balance nerve causing me to feel as if I just stepped off a boat. This constant feeling of motion also makes me feel slightly sea sick.

I am aware of my brokenness but I am also aware of the blessings that come from being broken. Alabaster is a white translucent mineral. Mary of Bethany had a beautiful alabaster jar which contained expensive ointment but the only way to release it was to break the jar. When the jar was broken the house was filled with the fragrance of the perfume and Mary was on her knees, having anointed Jesus' feet, she was now wiping them with her hair.

At eighteen I was filled with a since of destiny and a strong desire to serve God. I wanted to bring to him all that I was and use it to his glory! Brokenness has taught me to change my focus and instead of thinking about what I have to offer I have become more aware of the immeasurable riches of his grace in kindness towards me in Christ Jesus. My prayer is that I would be like a broken alabaster jar spilling over with the fragrance of the love of God.