Broken

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.