I like broken people, the ones whose frames are scratched, dented and their corners don’t match up well. I like people who have discolored pictures, broken glass, torn canvases. Somehow troubles, pain, turmoil, and suffering tends to create genuineness.
There’s something about pain and trouble that acts like a cleansing fire burning out the impurities of life. Those who emerge from hard times are tempered, refined, and often, real. It’s not that anyone wants a broken frame or cracked glass, but life breaks and shatters us anyway.
With a broken frame, we see life, and others, in a different light. Some respond to life’s troubles by becoming calculated, bitter and angry. Others, however, develop a deep-seated kindness, mercy and gentleness.
Picture perfect people though measure themselves with an external measuring stick. They exude financial success, attractiveness, health, happiness, whatever it is, all in a host of card trick illusions. Some measure themselves by acting as if they have the perfect marriage, kids, career, house, so much so that their dog doesn’t even have to go to the bathroom.
They want to be respected members of the “community” and encyclopedia pictures of confidence and togetherness. Yet if you look beyond the frame and study the picture behind the non-glare, museum quality glass, you’ll see a picture full of flaws, dents and imperfections hidden in open sight.
Human nature needs life plastic surgery. We want to show outward charisma and inward magnetism, but it’s just a sham. The heart needs liposuction so sinfulness, pretentiousness and arrogance are sucked away. Botox is needed to silence judging lips and relax haughty eyes. The mind needs probiotics to flush out selfishness, pride and conceited attitudes.
I used to work with a Rehab counselor who always said, “96% of all people are dysfunctional and need treatment”.
The other way seems right though. If 96% are dysfunctional, then dysfunctional must be the norm. The norm is to be imperfect, make mistakes and have broken pieces. Maybe the 4% who aren’t dysfunctional are delusional, if they even exist?
It’s not normal to live life-like a politician who acts confident, polished and has an answer for everything. No one is a complete, picture perfect package. It’s not genuine. It’s not real.
Sometimes life is dirty. Life has gorges, washouts, valleys and floods. We have rough edges, weaknesses and struggles. We blow it, make mistakes and generally mess things up.
It’s normal to be a broken person. To deny it is to live a lie.
Some of the most dangerous people believe and act as if their frame is pure gold and their picture deserves to be on display in an art museum.
…God resists the proud, but gives grace to the humble. James 4:6
God loves broken pictures. Broken glass, cracked frames, torn canvas, faded color — it’s a beautiful thing in God’s art museum! The more broken our black glass, the more His light can shine through.
It’s hard to put forth my real picture. It’s broken. It’s discolored, scratched, damaged. It’s easier to just put on a phony face for the world to see and act like a child dressing up in costumes for a make-believe world.
God sees beauty in people with broken frames. God sees worth in those living in shards of broken glass. God sees value, redeeming value, in the midst of our flaws, struggles, and mistakes of the past.
When brushing the hair of the person in the mirror every morning, see what God sees, not more, not less, but what God sees. Maybe then pride and woeful selfishness can shrivel away, while our broken, shattered lives can be mended into divine opportunities.
Human nature makes it feels like a curse. It’s true. It’s not “natural” to humble ourselves.
But it is a blessing to look in the mirror closely enough to honestly see my broken, imperfect picture. At least then the broken frame, shattered glass, and torn canvas can live honestly before God and man.
Besides, I really need that grace.