I watched, in shock, one Christmas, as my young son playfully tossed his lovie high into the air and it made contact with my favorite nativity set. The set that spelled “Jesus” with Mary and Joseph tucked into the E and U and right there in the cradle of the middle S was nestled the baby Jesus. Three of the letters crashed on the hearth. Broken.
I gasped and my hand went straight over my mouth, probably a good choice. My son’s eyes were saucers as he whipped his head towards me. I knew my response in that moment mattered.
“It’s ok, Baby, ” I said. Was I assuring him or myself? “It was an accident.” Yeah definitely reminding myself of that.
“Can you fix it, Mama?” His small voice trembling.
“We can try,” I could feel the tension in my neck as I carefully gathered the porcelain fragments.
Maybe because of what it was that had broken, maybe because of the precious one who had broken it, maybe because of my own weary state, but as we later sorted out the pieces on the table and dabbed super glue here and there, so many thoughts raced through my mind.
Is this how He felt?
Eve crunched down on that fruit and the world fell broken.
I shook my dust fist in His face and walked my own way for years, broken.
Even after years of walking with Him, the heartache of a roller coaster marriage led me to turn my back on Him, broken.
His voice surely echoed in the temple that day, as Jesus read these words before the proud and the broken,
“The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me, because the LORD has anointed me to bring good news to the poor; he has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison for those who are bound.” (Isaiah 61:1)
It doesn’t take much for us to see the brokenness of this world, the brokenness in our own lives and the brokenness within our own hearts.
We are precious to Him. You are precious to Him. Broken yet priceless. Shattered yet valuable.
The brokenness often feels like too much, beyond repair. In our humanness we are. He alone came to to bind up the brokenness. He came to bring together what sin has shattered.
As I held the newly glued pieces together, my sweet boy diligently counted, per the glue instructions. His eyes twinkled as he cuddled his lovie and I felt the value of the binding. It wasn’t just in the putting back together of this nativity, but rather in the holding together of this sweet relationship with my boy and the lesson being woven into his heart.
Maybe the brokenness is the very place we learn to lean into His binding. I felt the gift of being held together by the One who binds up wounds, shattered pieces and broken places.
“He is before all things, and in Him all things hold together.” (Colossians 1:17)
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