Broken

Sometimes you feel so broken, sometimes you feel that everything is so broken.

I see you walking so delicately on the broken glass, like every step is so painful.

Yet it is your destiny to walk amongst the broken.

For some things were meant to be broken.

Everyday you follow the same pattern of breaking.

You break open the eggs into the same container, and then partake of them.

If the egg shell could not be broken then what purpose would it serve?

It would be just a shell, containing a gift that could never be received.

Yet when you break open the container you find the gift within.

It is your destiny to break open that which contains.

I celebrate that which is broken for then my goodness, my gift can be fully released.

I know what you are thinking now, I know what you are feeling now.

There is so much pain in releasing the gift into the broken place, giving a gift to someone is broken. It is like waking up in their nightmare, and seeing all your glory revealed. Then it is given to them and it feels so often like a movie reaching the climax, the pivotal point and then the lights go out. I’m left hanging as to its impact. Or it is received only partially and the potential that could have been is not realised. For what is the point of partial restoration, is this not a fruitless effort, a futile effort, a wasted effort?

Yet I see you trying to put my gift back in a box, back in the container, yet it will not fit. For my gift always outgrows its container. You cannot put an adult back into the womb from whence it came. For the womb is my organic container that is also designed to break open at the appointed time.

My gift cannot be returned to me, once it is given, it can only be given to another.

For now you know in part, deliver in part, give in part, give a part, give a piece.

For some they receive it in full, for some it brings fullness.

For others they receive in part, and know in part, think it is just a part, and only benefit in part.

For some the part is a cog in a bigger machine, a component in their journey towards wholeness.

For some the part is a means to a greater end.

For others the end is a means to a greater destiny, a bigger destination.

But I want to talk to you about this…..

What is with you shovelling dust on to the biggest gift box I have given you to unwrap?

For I think it will be like the old thing, I want it to be the historic thing, I want just to be the mentor of someone else’s gift, I want to be the wise advisor of how someone could use their gift, rather than use the gift you have given me.

Yet I know how you feel.

You feel the weight of my glory shining all around, you see my glory like the sun in the darkest place.

You feel the warmth of my love and see my arms outstretched for the downcast, the one’s who have cast themselves down.

Yet you restrain yourself, you hold yourself back, you refuse to take a step forward, a step towards them.

I am afraid that your glory will only be amplified in the place of reflected brokenness.

And how does that look to you?

You make me laugh at myself Lord, for the picture is one of more glory reflected amidst the shards of broken glass.

For when sin abounds, grace abounds all the more.

For in the place of brokenness my light shines, my wholeness shows up.

For I see you doing all you can to inhibit my power, and yet how is that working for you?

It is so frustrating, because it is so futile, so pointless, for you glory seeps out, no matter what I do to keep it in. I want to stay in isolation, I want to lock myself up in a dark room, I want to imprison myself in the strongest cell and then throw away the key. And yet you glory always finds a way in, and your freedom always finds a way out.

It was always your destiny to break free.

For this is the new season of freedom, this is the new way forward, this is the new found freedom, this is the place you will call home.

For my glory seeps from you.

My glory radiates from your brokenness.

My glory shines brightest in the place of brokenness.

For I do my greatest work, with that which no longer works.

It is time to come out. I am turfing you out. You can no longer be in.

For I will parade my glory amongst the broken.

This will be the work of my hands, and there is nothing you can do to prevent this.

For my glory breaks out.

For it shall be glorious!