sweetly broken.

Since being in Costa Rica, I have been attending a church called La Vina, a Spanish church. I can (on a good day) usually understand the main idea of what is being said but it has been so fun to watch my Spanish listening ear improve from the first couple of weeks to now. Can't wait to see how much further it comes in the months to come!

One of my favorite things about attending a Spanish church is the worship. There is just something so moving about worshipping God in another language. The Holy Spirit just takes over - suddenly I am proclaiming all this truth and sometimes I don't even understand which truths I am proclaiming. Such was the case with the song "Dulcement Quebrantado" (Sweetly Broken).

The first time I heard this song, my eyes filled with tears at the chorus. At the time, I had actually no idea what most of the words meant in English...all I knew was that somewhere deep down in my soul of souls, the Lord was beckoning. I had no idea what He was calling me towards but I could feel it. My heart, my soul, my mind, my strength - everything in me was suddenly being pulled to discover something deeper within myself.

He was beckoning me to take a step towards my brokenness.

And without even knowing it, everything in me attempted to dig my heels in, to come to a screeching halt, to run in the opposite direction. I knew that the Lord was doing something but I couldn't figure out what - and to be honest, I was terrified to find out.

Slowly but surely, the Lord continued to call my name. He continued to pursue. He continued to beckon. Because He knew that this step was the next step I needed to take towards freedom. Freedom from what, I have no idea. Just...freedom. To be free. Isn't that the desire of every soul? It has surely been the desire of mine for a very long time.

And then I read an chapter of a book that my friend sent me called "Longing" by Ruth Haley Barton. And there again, I was touched to the very center of my being.

She writes:
"Regardless of the pain I experienced, I did not want to live forever in a hardened or broken state. For the first time, the Jesus prayer - uttered by the blind and broken of Christ's day - began to pray itself in me unbidden: 'Lord Jesus Christ, have mercy on me, a sinner.' I knew that whatever needed to be done in me, God would have to do, for I was incapable of fixing myself."

Like a kick in the stomach, I was out of breath. How long have I been trying to fix myself? How long was I allowing myself to live in a hardened or broken state? Doesn't Jesus promise us life and life to the fullest with Him? (John 10:10) And how many people have I claimed this promise over in ministry, when I wasn't even claiming it over myself? And what does that mean, when your own built up walls are what is causing these chains? Where do you go from there?

To the foot of the cross, that's where. And that is exactly where my Lord was leading me. Oh, but it still took some more prying.

This same friend also gave me a book titled Life of the Beloved by Henri Nouwen. In a chapter called "Brokenness", I read this:

"Our brokenness reveals something about who we are. Our sufferings and pains are not simply bothersome interruptions of our lives; rather, they touch us in our uniqueness and our most intimate individuality."

"Our first, most spontaneous response to pain and suffering is to avoid it, to keep it at arm's length; to ignore, circumvent, or deny it...still, my own pain in life has taught me that the first step to healing is not a step away from the pain, but a step towards it...I am convinced that healing is so often so difficult because we don't want to know the pain."

And there I am. Walls stripped down, hardness melted away, the deepest part of me that I thought I was so good at hiding: I am afraid of the pain. I am terrified of risking anything that might cause this pain. I am scared to truly look at my brokenness because of the reality of what will be staring back at me.

And Jesus knows this. He has known this about me all along. This is why He is calling me towards my brokenness. Because He knows the underlying fear, He knows my self-protective methods and He knows every piece of my brokenness. He knows what lies ahead.

But yet, He beckons me nonetheless. And so, inch by inch, I follow. I have no other choice. I follow Him into the depth of my brokenness. And it is a terrifying risk...but one I am willing to take.

I know I can trust Him. Because He, who knew no brokenness in Himself, looked all of my brokenness in the eye on the cross. My brokenness became His brokenness. And so to the foot of the cross I go because no where else can I truly see and feel the depth of His love for me. And no where else can I bear my brokenness unless He bears it for me.

Dulcemente quebrantado. Sweetly broken, at the foot of the cross. And as terrifying and scary and risky and painful as it might be, there is no where else in the world where I would rather be. Because even in pain, I am safe with Jesus. Even in brokenness, I am complete in Christ.