I've always considered myself to be a strong person. I roll with the punches, I bend but not break, I excel under pressure. Those who read this and know me can attest that I have one of the best poker faces around when it comes to pressure.
I don't know where I got the idea that this was the person I am supposed to be. I think it happened as a child and I became so good at it, that it just stuck. The problem is that I became so good at it, I don't know how to NOT be this person.
Realizing that I am preaching to the choir, I have to say something. Brokenness is not a bad thing. As a society, we place great worth on being strong. We preach the message to our sons from a young age that they can't cry, they should be a man, and they should grow a pair. We reinforce with our daughters that women and emotions are an irrational thing. We make jokes about how girls cry about everything, and no one understands it. It is a deep and perverse part of our nature. The problem is that it also teaches us to put up walls.
I'm not an expert on many things, but in the area of putting up walls, I have every advanced degree possible. I begin to put up walls as a child to protect myself from what was going on around me. It was a natural response to what was going on in my life. The problem is that no one ever taught me to take the walls back down. So for most of my life, when I felt hurt, scared, or alone, I built a wall. When I felt confused, betrayed, or threatened, I built a wall. Don't get me wrong, I can look back and see some ways in which my walls kept me safe. But I can also look back and see even more how the walls kept me from growing. The walls fulfilled a purpose for a time, but they kept me from learning to trust myself and others, they kept me from learning how to fully commit, they kept me from ever being in a place where I had to let myself be vulnerable.
There is a whole book inside me about being vulnerable; the pros and the cons :) But this isn't what I want to say today. Today I'm thinking about brokenness. At some point in my wall-building career, things started to fall apart. Sometime in my mid twenties, I suddenly lost the ability to hold everything together and I started to break. It began one day when something happened and I absolutely couldn't stop crying. I had such an over the top reaction to a fairly insignificant incident that I thought I was going crazy. I literally did not stop crying for over 6 hours. I don't even remember which friend it was, but some dear soul sat there for 6 hours and let me break. As I spent the next few days trying to put that reaction into perspective; I realized that over the course of 20 something years, I could count very quickly the times that I had actually broken down and cried. It wasn't many.
As time went on, it was like the dam over the River Martha had suddenly sprung hundreds of tiny leaks. It seemed that almost everything in my life gave me occasion to break down in tears. The annoying part was that some of it was things that had never made me cry before. Migraines? Rarely reduced me to tears. Now I couldn't stop. Work conflict? My specialty. Suddenly I cried every time I got angry. Family drama? We've had it for years, but suddenly it was more than I could take.
I distinctly remember a period of a few years when I literally felt like I was watching my whole life fall to pieces in front of my eyes. In reality, it was not my life being broken, it was me. Over the course of time and with the help of some very close friends who took me as I was, no questions asked, and loved me in spite of myself; I started to slowly see that living life behind my walls of security was really not a life. I slowly, VERY SLOWLY, began to open my self up and let myself be vulnerable with people. Most of the time, it totally backfired and I ended up a huddled mass of confusion, hurt, and rejection; Right back at the foot of a wall ready to be built.
Over time, choosing to be open and vulnerable in all areas of life because a little easier. With certain people, the walls started to come down. With others, it was a much slower process that involved a daily choice to let them see the real Martha. It involved learning to trust that people could choose to love me in spite of who I was or how I saw myself. Did it work every time? Absolutely not. Did it get easier? Not really.
At the ripe old age of 31, I can look back on those years and see how the brokenness changed me. I can see how I am more capable of loving than ever before, because now I'm not consumed with the fear that I will be rejected. I am more able to accept people as they are, because I want them to accept me as I am. I can look beyond the ugliness and hatred of some people, because when I am that way, I hope they can see beyond that with me.
More importantly, I am beginning to learn to embrace the brokenness. Sure, there are days or months where it seems like my life is going to hell in a hand-basket. There are certainly days that all I can feel is pain and loneliness. There are plenty of days where I feel despised and rejected by the people that I love. But the difference is, now I can see where brokenness leads.
One of my favorite examples of brokenness in the Bible is King David. The man did unspeakable things. He had his best friend killed in battle so he could have his wife. He lied, and took what was not his. There is more to the story, but what is interesting is David's reaction to having his sin uncovered. David didn't try to run and hide or to blame his wrong doing on someone else. No, he faced his flaws and brokenness and let it make him a better person. Psalm 51 is famously known as David's Lament after being confronted with his sin. It begins with confession and repentance. But my favorite part is verses 6-17
"Behold, you desire truth in the inward parts: and in the hidden parts you will make me to know wisdom. Purge me with hyssop and I shall be clean: wash me and I shall be whiter than snow. Make me to hear joy and gladness; that the bones that you have broken will rejoice. Hide your face from my sins and forget my iniquities. Create in me a clean heart, O God; and renew a right spirit within me. Cast me not away from your presence; take not your holy spirit from me. Restore unto me the joy of your salvation; and uphold me with your spirit. Then will I teach transgressors you ways; and sinners will be converted to you. Deliver me from blood-guiltiness, O God, God of my salvation; and my tongue will sing aloud of your righteousness. O Lord, open my lips and my mouth will show forth your praise. For you desire not sacrifices, or I wold give them, you do not delight in burnt sacrifices. THE SACRIFICES OF GOD ARE A BROKEN SPIRIT: A BROKEN AND CONTRITE HEART, O GOD, YOU WILL NOT DESPISE!!
I add the emphasis and exclamation points because to me, this is good news! God doesn't need or even want my strength, resilience, fortitude, and the fact that I'm tough as nails. All He wants, all He needs is my brokenness. He is looking for broken vessels to use for His glory.
My brokenness is like colored glass. Alone, it's just glass. But broken and put together by a master, it becomes a beautiful stained glass window.
I am not yet an expert in brokenness, but if things keep up, I will be soon :) Yes, I still fall apart when something in my life breaks. Yes, it is still the worst feeling ever. Yes, I still try to hide my brokenness, even from the people who love me most.
But I am learning to embrace those parts of me. I'm learning to let my brokenness show (or I as I some times say, I'm learning to let the crazy out). If I cry or show negative emotion in front of you, it's because there has already been a battle in my head about whether the risk of rejection is worth the reward of learning to be vulnerable. I'm learning to take down the walls.
Just today, I caught myself saying "When does this stop?? When does something in my life come easily and without brokenness and heartache??" Then something prompted me to remember the end product of brokenness. Do I get what I want or what makes me happy? Maybe, maybe not. Do I someday feel "normal" (which is really just a setting on your dryer. In case you were wondering)? Maybe, probably not. Do I ever reach a place of complete peace and surrender no matter what? I hope so, because then I'll know that I'm on my way being not just a broken vessel, but a broken vessel that can be used for glory. In the end, it makes every crack, every hole, and every gaping wound worth it.
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