In the earthquake, houses and buildings broke, bones broke, lives fell apart, people were lost. Now, months later, it is evident that lives are still broken.
This world is broken; that is nothing new. I have known it for a long time. I'm just more aware of it now than before, as we drive down the street and see the pancaked buildings and the fields of tents, and as I talk to friends who are struggling in many different ways. For some, the earthquake caused the pain and hurt; for others, it only revealed places that were already cracked and weakened.
In emails I wrote in January, I said, "My heart is broken." I usually shy away from such dramatic language, but I wasn't exaggerating. That's how it felt, as though something had cracked inside my chest.
And now, all these months later, I want to live like someone who is grateful to be alive, someone who takes nothing for granted. I want to be a perfect wife, a perfect mother, a perfect friend. Once school starts, I want to be a perfect teacher. I am so far from being any of those things, and I get so disappointed with myself, and realize again and again that I am broken. Not because of the earthquake, though that definitely added to my brokenness. I was broken before.
Oh Lord, please, please fix it; fix all of it. Give us all the strength and wisdom to do what we can, but we desperately need Your help. I desperately need Your help.
1 hour ago