Broken.  I am broken.  It is the most freeing word that can escape my lips.

For most of my life I was on a feverish journey toward “Good-Enough,” desperate to arrive at the place called Perfection where I could find my worth, where I could lay down my struggle and be enveloped in peace.

It wasn’t just a desire.  It was a need, and a relentless one at that.

I felt my distinct humanity, my wound, as a great shame to be hidden.  If I could avoid it at all cost I could get closer to my destination.

Yet the road toward “Good-Enough” was a terrible and winding one.  It consumed all of my energies.  It drained what little hope I had.  Just when I thought I had arrived, when I could see the outline of this land just over the horizon, I would trip and fall.
Devastation. Shame.

To reveal my brokenness was to open myself to ridicule.  I just couldn’t bear to add more condemnation to the consuming weight of my own.

At church, I heard voices imploring me to lay it at the altar and I would surely be healed.  My salvation would come if I would just spend two weeks in the Word.  Then all of my problems would disappear.

I listened to the pastor’s sermons.  I would hear him describe the “promised-land” and though my heart would beat out of my chest in a gasping panic for what he was offering, the voice of sorrow inside would quietly whisper that this “promised-land” was for others, but not for me.

Mine was the road toward “Good-Enough”.

One day, Someone began to speak to me of my worth, my belovedness.  This voice beckoned me to let myself off the hook of perfection, to feel my worth as an infinite and immutable fact, to offer compassion to the wounded, weaker parts of myself.  To accept, perhaps embrace, my brokenness. To love.  Me.  Right where I was.

How could this be?  It went against everything I was taught to believe.  It drained me of everything I thought I knew.  Maybe I didn’t know.

What I do know is that somewhere along the way, Someone was kind enough to offer me a gift called compassion.  Someone stopped me on the road toward “Good-Enough” and showed me the way toward Peace.

Peace.  It was right inside all the time.  It was the most beautiful gift I ever received.

Yes, I am broken.  As I’ve heard said, “That’s how the light gets in.”