A special gift. Prayer beads prayed over by the maker for the recipient. Given to me by a volunteer. A special token of her appreciation at the opportunity to serve, to work together. Humbling to me to receive a gift from someone who already gave so much of herself.
I wore them every day. Then, someone noticed, pointed out to me…the broken bead. I looked down. My gaze lingered on the broken bead. Was my precious bracelet damaged?
Broken. Like me. A smile played across my face. The broken bead…a symbolic reminder that I am broken, in need of a Savior.
A body that has a host of food sensitivities. Dreams deferred. A past of experiences woven together in their own beautiful broken way.
Everyone has a story. Life is cruel at times. Things don’t work out like we had hoped. People let us down, and we let people down.
Broken. Beautifully broken.
God doesn’t see our mess ups, failures, not always so great choices…He sees our Brokenness… beautiful… usable by Him for His glory to grow us….even and especially to bless us.
Every time I wear my prayer beads, I smile when I look down and see the broken bead. Beautifully broken…each and every one of use.
The greatest sacrifice you want is a broken spirit. God, You will gladly accept a heart that is broken because of sadness over sin. Psalm 51:17 NIrV