Broken

I read a lovely poem written by Sophie Dutton during the week that really spoke to me. One verse in particular.

I bring sticky plasters, and all the hurts they cannot heal-

the wake-up screaming nightmares and sleepless nights,

the fears that invade our waking moments,

the memories that rattle round our heads day after day.

We remember the search for healing, and the empty hopes,

the unanswered prayers, unfulfilled prophesies,

and wounds that all the sticky plasters in the world cannot heal.

Wounded healer, we offer you our hurts.

Broken mender, make us whole.

I have really felt that recently, some of my prayers and requests have only been sticking plasters over some of the serious issues I have been trying to deal with. Without totally offering God our whole life, our whole hurts and our desperate pleas for healing, we cannot get rid of the plasters and see the wholeness God offers.

Our Lord was broken for us. We come to Him as broken people, with broken lives. He can help us and heal us because He was broken, but defeated everything that hurts us once and for all. 

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