When I came home from Cleveland two weeks ago, I learned that my vacuum cleaner had something wrong with it. A very weird thin metal bar kinda thing was sticking out of the bottom. I looked at it and tried to figure it out. I admit that I’m not the most mechanically minded person I’ve ever met, but I can often figure things like this out if I work at it long enough. I tried everything I could think of, but I just could not figure out (a) where this metal piece belonged and (b) how to get it to even move. I put the vacuum aside and decided to deal with it later. On Friday, after yet more attempts to figure it out, I yanked that little metal piece out. Just yanked it. I tried the vacuum and it worked just fine. I’ll probably never know what that was about.
On Friday morning of this week I got an email from the local water department telling me that I had a leak somewhere in my house. I had been hemorrhaging 10 – 20 gallons of water every hour since August 7th. Oh, no! Because Utah is in an extreme drought, I have tried everything I knew to do to limit my use of water. This information was discouraging, to say the least. I set out to figure out where this leak was. I searched the entire house. I scoured the yard. I could not find this leak. I was stressed beyond measure, especially since with a three-day weekend I couldn’t have a plumber out until sometime this coming week. I prayed about it, but I still couldn’t find the leak. I stayed up all night just stressed to the gills. Around 3 or 4 a.m. I did a google search for “big water leaks that are silent and don’t flood.” It was then that I learned about the “dye test.” This is a test where you put food coloring in your toilet’s tank and then wait a few minutes. If the water in the bowl changes color at that point then you know that you have a leaky toilet. I did this in all four bathrooms. One of the bathrooms ended up having a leak. Fortunately it is a bathroom not currently needed or used. I was able to turn off the water to the toilet and just wait until the plumber is able to come and fix it later this week or next.
These experiences got me thinking about how differently I now view things that are broken. When Ben was here we would have handled these situations so differently. In those halcyon days of the past we would have probably ditched the broken vacuum when we couldn’t easily fix it and just gotten a new one. With the plumbing we would have paid whatever exorbitant amount was necessary to get a plumber out asap instead of trying to resolve the problem ourselves. It was so much easier. Those easy options just aren’t available now, and so when faced with broken things at this point I need to exercise patience and try some ingenuity. It’s actually been a good experience.
How often, I wonder, do I also see people that are broken and casually toss them aside if there isn’t an easy fix? Everyone is broken. Every last single one of God’s children struggles through mortality. Some people hide their brokenness more than others, but everyone is broken in some way. What do I do to help? How do I support?
Years ago I knew a woman (I’ll call her Sue) who rented a mother-in-law house behind my friend’s home (I’ll call this friend Mary). Both were members of my church congregation. Mary’s life, on the outside, seemed easy and smooth. The truth was, though, that she had actually known great tragedy. Several years before I met her, her son had become addicted to hard drugs and killed himself in the street in front of her house. A few years later her son-in-law also killed himself, leaving behind a wife and several very young children. There were other hardships she’d endured as well. Unfortunately, she chose not to share any of these experiences with any but a very few others (and we were literally sworn to secrecy) and so nobody really knew. One day I was visiting with Sue. She had just been released from the hospital following a post-partum nervous collapse. What she told me has haunted me ever since. She explained that she wanted to leave her faith because people at church had these ideal lives without ever having serious crises. She felt like she didn’t belong, especially with the stigma of a mental and emotional breakdown. She then said that in her experience, if people were really good that they weren’t as messed up she was, and they didn’t suffer like she did. This broke my heart. Just a few feet in front of us sat a woman who was “really good” but had suffered tremendously. Both were broken women, but neither knew the other was.
Sue needed to be patient with herself and to allow herself time to heal without tossing herself out the rhetorical window. Mary could have helped in that healing by sharing her own experiences.
One of the easiest things for me to do is to give up on myself because I just don’t measure up. I look at myself rather critically and instead of seeing myself as someone who has endured very hard things and been successful, I see my flaws and weaknesses. I see only my brokenness and I’m not very patient with myself. I’m guessing most people are unfortunately that way as well. We see the broken parts, we can’t see an easy fix, and so we consider ourselves of no or little worth. What a sad thought that is!
Sometimes the brokenness is in others, and I admit that too often I choose not to take the time to help them heal. I become impatient and wish to just throw the relationship out if my attempts to help don’t easily work. I have a dear friend named Stacie who works with people who are among the most broken. We became friends as we helped an elderly widow who had a lot of mental and physical health issues. Stacie never gave up on this woman. She helped her in every way possible. When my life got too busy with other things, Stacie was still there with this woman – and stayed actively involved in every aspect of her life until she passed away a few years ago. Now Stacie works with a deaf church congregation and loves them and helps them incrementally inch towards greater independence and self-reliance. Her example of helping the broken is astounding.
Sometimes the brokenness comes from a path that veers from the expected. A broken road that causes pain and confusion. When someone is traveling down the unexpected road, how do we help? What do we do? Most of the time the broken road leads to greater depth and beauty, but before those are reached there is a lot of help needed to navigate the unexpected vista.
I think that too often we like to pretend that we – and nobody “normal” – is broken. We avoid those whose brokenness is more obvious. I remember sitting in church once hearing a woman just bare her soul about how she reached bottom, felt the Savior’s outstretched loving and redeeming hand, and slowly – through that redemptive power – returned to full faith in God and her religion. A friend, sitting nearby, expressed her discomfort at such open feelings and sought to limit this woman’s ability to speak or interact with others at church. She sought to sideline her to the ranks of the “not acceptable.” Ben and I felt differently, however. This woman’s heartfelt testimony of broken and restored faith was a powerful influence on our own views of our spiritual journey.
Last week I mentioned the Good Samaritan. This morning I read the following thought on Twitter from a Florida pastor: “Those who passed by the broken traveler on the road to Jericho acted on faith-shaped reasons that elevated racial and religious purity over needy people. Do we recognize the everyday opportunities to be vessels of mercy? Love will not ignore the wounded in the name of fidelity.” I loved this! Love will not ignore the wounded – or the broken – for any reason.
We are broken. We are all broken. I believe, however, that it is that very broken nature that blesses us the most. We grow most from trial, we learn about others as we traverse the broken roads with them, we grow more like our Savior when we reach out and help heal that which is broken. God healed us with His grace. It is a privilege to help heal ourselves and others by extending that grace through all the broken parts.
Look to God and Live... Joyfully! 