let broken bones dance

"make me hear of joy and gladness; let the bones that you have broken rejoice." -psalm 51:8-

he was speaking to me of brokenness as if he was that cheesy guy on some infomercial, trying to get me to buy this better-than-the-rest product. as if brokenness was a precious treasure and he wanted me so desperately to have it... to be broken.

but i didn't want to be broken. isn't the goal of this whole thing? to be whole? to be complete? that's even what the pastors preach on sunday mornings from the pulpit: jesus will make you complete. that's what trying-so-hard-not-be-broken-women tell other broken-hearted women.

wholeness. completeness. now that... that is what i want. to be whole. to have all my broken pieces fixed and to be put back together as if i were never broken in the first place.

we run from brokenness like the plague. this is why we avoid situations that could expose us, reveal that we do not have it all and am not put together. this is why when we get asked how we are we say "fine" even though we are not, don't know how to be.

but he kept talking.

"so i know this girl..." he began telling me, eyes shining, coffee steaming, "and her boyfriend just broke up with her and it was messy. and she is broken. she told me she feels worthless, like she has and is nothing. and you know what?"

i waited for him to speak. waited for him to say she just needs to turn to jesus to fix the broken pieces. waited for him to say she shouldn't have put all her hopes on this boy and that if she turns to be god to be her soul's satisfaction it will be better and her heart will heal. but he didn't.

"you know what? she has never been more beautiful."

i looked at him. puzzled. because how could some desperate chick lost without her boyfriend be beautiful?

"she has finally stopped trying. finally stopped striving. she simply is coming to terms with herself and she is vulnerable and she is broken and she is beautiful."

funny to see that psalm 51:8 does not say "let the bones that you have broken be healed." it asks that those broken bones rejoice, get up and dance in their brokenness.

there are so many sovereign, good reasons that the lord breaks us: to recognize our sin and repent of it, to be dependent upon him, to be still before him. but do we ever rejoice over our brokenness and his purpose behind breaking us?

my mawmaw recently got in a car wreck and one arm is broken and the other wrist is broken. essentially, she cannot do anything with her hands. and she is a seamstress. a homemaker. a gardener. she spends her days working with her hands; sewing, cooking, cleaning, planting. she is now completely dependent. my pawpaw has to help her brush her teeth, hold the phone when she is talking to someone, make meals...

she is slowing down and learning to be dependent and that is hard and it is annoying. embarrassment may come over us, impatience may run inside us.

but it is beautiful.

david was head under water in his sin. he had committed adultery, murder and all was laced with deception. finally, he was confronted of his sin and he was broken. and longed to rejoice in his brokenness.

recognizing your sin is reason to rejoice for finally the blinders are off of the eyes and the chains of the flesh are loosened. the hope of purity is on its way and the truth that forgiveness in your brokenness is before your eyes.

it is difficult to be okay with being broken. i know this well.

i was sitting next to her and spilling all of my secret jealousies, my hidden pride, my masked insecurity. i was putting into detail how i felt and why i felt it and how sick it was. and it was terrifying. now she knew and there was no going back. all of my broken bits were before her and part of me wanted to gather them up and shove them back under the rug of apathy and act as if i had never spoken the ugly sin inside me. but i had. and it was difficult. but it was beautiful.

because now the stronghold of keeping it all inside was gone. now i had to confront these sins. and with the verbal recognition there was a heart recognition that i needed the cross so desperately and i needed grace every moment and there was no way i could keep living dependent on myself.

yes, the lord breaks us in order that we may be dependent. charles spurgeon spoke of this very act of leaning upon the lord as a limpet holds fast to the rock to which he clings. try and knock him off and he does not budge. his mind is set: he will not budge.

do we have this sort of determination for the father? that we cling to him, come hell or high water? because we should. and we must. for only he brings safety. only he brings salvation. only he brings grace. only he can cause these bones that he has broken to rejoice.

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