Bruised, Broken, Beautiful

"He loved us...to make us lovely."

“He is despised and rejected of men; a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief.” Isa. 53:3

Story One

I still remember the pain on their sweet, solemn faces. And I can still remember the pain I felt as they shared the serious mistakes they had made—both before and since they were married. They were so young! I think they had one or two little children. They had recently moved into our congregation and were trying to start off on the right foot by coming to meet with me for counsel and comfort. I loved them so much for their brokenness and childlike longing to be forgiven.

But what I feel most when I remember this couple, more than 20 years later, is regret. Regret that I didn’t hold tightly enough to them after discussing the journey ahead with them, which would likely have included the loss of access to some blessings for a period of time. (What I know now is that this period would have probably been brief or even unnecessary given how little they understood about the seriousness of their mistakes. But I didn’t make this clear to them. Yet another regret.) Instead of filling them with hope in Christ, I saw fear in their eyes and the shadow of despair overtake them.

They deserved better.

Not long after we met, they moved on. I’ve often wondered if they tried again with someone who did a much better job than I did of manifesting Jesus’s love to them, or if they gave up and stopped coming to church to avoid the feelings of guilt that attending meetings might bring.

If I ever had another chance to visit with them, we would simply have knelt together and poured out our hearts for the Healing Christ to come and assure them that they had not—could not—sin beyond His reach. And then we would have begun the work of helping them to lift their eyes to see themselves in His arms.

There are no doubt many lessons to learn in this story, but I share the one I most needed (and still need) to learn: We cannot sin beyond the reach of Jesus. His grace is sufficient. He wants to forgive. If I had been more attuned to the broken hearts put in my care, I would have worked much harder to carry them to the Master Mender.

Story Two

A friend of mine once told me of an experience he’d had as a teenager that changed his life. He had struggled with addiction to alcohol and other drugs for several years but had (he thought) kept this a secret from his parents. He told me his father was a prominent leader in the community and in their local congregation and my friend knew if his “sins” (his word) were ever made public, that revelation would destroy his father’s reputation.

As sometimes happens, my friend’s addictions became serious enough that he broke the law buying drugs and as a consequence, was going to be incarcerated. Before this news was made public, my friend arranged to meet with his father to confess his mistakes. He told me he was far more afraid of telling his dad what he’d done than he was about being put in jail.

The appointed moment came and they met together in his father’s office. Through tears of terror, he slowly revealed what he had done and what was going to happen because of those mistakes. He didn’t dare look into his father’s face for fear of the anger and shame he was sure he would see there.

But that’s not what happened. Instead, to his great surprise, his father stood and walked around the desk to where his son sat and pulled him up into his arms and said, with great emotion, “This is a great day, son. This is a great day.”

This was the moment, my friend told me, that changed his life forever.

Story Three

A young person I know and love had to return early from a Church mission because of serious health concerns. He desperately tried to stay and just “tough it out,” but the moment came when that was no longer possible. From the moment he returned home, he has struggled with feeling with whether or not he was “enough”, that his service wasn’t sufficient, and that his standing before God was in question.

Not long ago, he and a friend were meeting with missionaries from The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints as they shared a brief message about the Savior. After doing so, one of the missionaries said this to the young man and his friend: “I don’t know why I’m sharing this, but I feel I’m supposed to tell you that God is pleased with both of you for serving missions and that you don’t need to worry about whether or not your service was accepted by Him.”

This young man later told me he didn’t know how much he needed to hear those words until he heard them. To know that God accepted what he had given was deeply healing. To know that what he could give was enough was everything.

“When Jesus looked down from the cross, he didn’t think, ‘I am giving myself to you because you are so attractive to me.’ No, he was in agony, and he looked down at us—denying him, abandoning him, and betraying him—and in the greatest act of love in history, he stayed. . . . He loved us, not because we were lovely to him, but to make us lovely.”

Timothy and Kathy Keller, The Meaning of Marriage (New York: Penguin Books, 2016)

The enemy of this world has many names. One that seems especially relevant is “Destroyer.” And what exactly is it that he is trying to destroy? Each of us, obviously. And how exactly does he do this? To put it simply, by getting us to believe that we don’t deserve the Savior’s offering. That we aren’t enough. That we’ve done too much, fallen too far, sinned too seriously.

No. Not true. Not ever.

Each of these stories, and countless others, say otherwise. The Savior came to take upon Himself all of it. He came for me, for you, for each of us.

The bruised? Yes. The broken? Yes.

But in Him—with Him, because of Him—we each can be made beautiful and glorious and breathtakingly radiant.

Surely he hath borne our griefs, and carried our sorrows: yet we did esteem him stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted. But he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities: the chastisement of our peace was upon him; and with his stripes we are healed.

Isaiah 53:4-5

Now…if you’ve made it this far, a humble request: Don’t skip this next part. Just push “play” and listen to this profoundly lovely song, truly one of my all-time favorites. It’s called Come As You Are by Crowder. And this, my favorite version, is performed by Nathan Pacheco. I’ll happily wait as you listen. 😌

So lay down your burdens
Lay down your shame

All who are broken
Lift up your face

Oh wanderer come home
You're not too far

Lay down your hurt lay down your heart

Come as you are
Come as you are

Fall in his arms
Come as you are

There's joy for the morning
Oh sinner be still

Earth has no sorrow
That heaven can't heal

Earth has no sorrow
That heaven can't heal

I just felt that these stories, each of them, were so important to share with you today. I want to feel more of His love in my life. You likely want that as well. I wish that for you. Truly. And the most I can hope for is that the things I’ve shared here have helped you feel a little bit closer to Him and a little bit more loved, accepted, embraced.

I love you.

Next week on The Bright & Morning Star

What to do when confronted with unkindness, indifference, offense? What to be when neighbor/friend/family member cause us pain? Is there anything harder? Is heaven’s help needed any more than in such moments? I attempt an answer. I hope you’ll join me.