Broken and Blessed

English: Jesus healing the sick by Gustave Dor...

So remember that post I did about how I want to be healed?

Apparently I didn’t want it as badly as I thought.

In that post, I announced my intention to get a therapist and/or spiritual director to help with some pesky issues. But then I just didn’t do it.

I didn’t do it because I felt empty, lacking in so many things: time, money, energy to navigate The System of getting help. And I, by the grace of God, am not currently burdened with the kind of mental or physical health issues that can be such a huge drain on these things. Mine are just the normal demands of bills, job, and life.

In one sense, my lack in those areas can’t be denied. But aside from that, I think the issue is the very thing I outlined in the original blog post: I don’t want to ask for help. I don’t want to define myself as someone who needs help. In short, the real issue is my pride.

I love to be seen as someone who helps people, who prays for people. I’d rather see everyone else as in need of my help. I want to believe I can fix all my problems myself… with God, of course. But the thing is, if I could just do that, I would have done it by now. And the longer I wrestle with unhealthy relationship patterns and long-buried issues without any real solution, the more I and the people I’m close to suffer. Ironically, I become less and less able to help others. I’m so blinded by the stick in my eye that I cannot see clearly to help others with the things that blind them.

I so easily forget that Jesus loved needy people. He was always hanging out with them. Lepers, outcasts, untouchables: he loved them. And he said God loved them too, maybe especially so. In the end, we are all fragile, we are all broken, in different ways. Blessed, Jesus said, are those who know it.

It’s time to let go of the notion that I’m different from others, that they are the ones with the problems and I’m the one with solutions. The fact is, we’re all struggling at different levels, and we all need help. The time has come to root out my pride and realize I am a broken person… and my very brokenness is blessed.

Now to pick up that phone and call some therapists. But I may need help even for that.

So do you mind if I ask for your prayers: for healing, for wholeness, for the courage to seek it?

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