For a long time I thought I was not broken.
I was happy. I had a good home, a good-enough job, plenty of material things to keep me satisfied, the ability to travel, the ability to help others, hope and possibility tucked up under my breast bones as snug as a brooding chicken settled into its nest.
Even recently, when I heard a preacher preach that we are all broken, I stopped and considered. Am I broken? I look around me and see the broken spots of others. But am I not whole? I had such a beautiful childhood, so much love.
But a deeper, sadder part of me feels my brokenness in pots that boil deep beneath the surface. I have run up against my own inadequacy lately and bruised my forehead, hard.
One thing I have lately realized is how much I bank on my performance, how hard I try to do things right, better, and best, and how much I measure my worth by the results of my performance.
I haven’t told you this much, unless I’ve implied it, but the days just past have been some of the most stressful of my life. I was doing college, caring for a child, caring for an elderly man, trying to act like I had it all under control, and I did. Calm cool and collected as a cucumber. I got this. I am efficient. I organize. I work hard. I don’t notice the spiderwebs until weeks later when I see them hanging in sheets above the curtains and wonder just how long they have been there.
But there was a thing that came up. A conversation where I thought I wasn’t meeting Ivan’s needs like the wife I wanted to be, that I was letting him down. (Ivan hadn’t understood the conversation that way, so if I had opened up and started talking instead of curled in a hard ball away from him on the bed, it might have ended differently.) My heart hurt so bad. And there was no one around to take the blame, no one but me. So I lifted my hands and started beating my forehead hard. I must be punished. I hated myself.
I never self-harmed before, never understood why people did it. I thought it was because they felt unloved and lonely, but now I know. It’s because they can’t perform. If they could do better, the world would be right, but they can’t and so they must be punished.*
Ivan grabbed me and told me in a loud, firm voice to stop beating myself. “I hate myself,” I said.
“Don’t hate yourself,” he said, in that same authoritative voice. “You’re pretty in the eyes of God.” It wasn’t until that moment I realized what a harsh taskmaster performance is.
*I don’t fully understand all the motivations for self-harming in others. This is how it was for me.
All my life I’ve measured my worth by what I do, by how I behave, by the depth of my devotions, by the height of my ice-scream scoops on the 100’s chart at school. And what do you DO when you try your hardest and your performance fails?
I have been realizing more and more how wrong it is to measure my worth by my actions.
Marriage and motherhood have also brought me to this realization, because they call for a response from a deeper place, a more private and genuine place than I have ever given before.
I’ve had to raise my head and step forward while acknowledging my own inadequacy for the task. I’ve had to mother not knowing the best solutions of mothering, to wife not knowing how to love well, to share from my heart to another individual even when that heart was imperfect, unholy, and focused on self. In a marriage, you have to let the thorny places out, because if you don’t, the marriage dies. And so someone else besides yourself realizes that thing you never admitted before: that you are deeply selfish and deeply inadequate. You cannot perform well in a marriage and then go home. You are home.
Brokenness is the opposite of performance. Brokenness brings us to a place where we can accept that the grace of God covers our wrong, that we don’t need to beat ourselves when we perform badly.
Godly brokenness says, “I am broken, but I walk forward in faith. I hit the wrong note in the opening lines, but I play on, contributing my notes to the orchestra. I stumble before the finish line, but I get up and move forward, okay with finishing in last place. I have a piece missing, but still I sit ready in the china cupboard, willing for someone to drink from me, willing to serve.”
Brokenness says that imperfection is okay. Imperfection in others. Imperfection in me.
Looking for worth in performance, really, is just another form of brokenness.
Peter Mommsen writes in an article in the Plough on the beauty and strength of disability and handicap:
Both Mary Ann and Duane [two handicapped individuals] show the face of what it is to be fully human, fully beautiful and good. To be human as Christ was human involves pain. It requires vulnerability, an emptying of one’s own power, and dependence instead of autonomy. It leads to perfection, but of a different sort than the one Socrates had in mind: “My strength is made perfect in weakness” (2 Cor. 12:9). This perfection is available to every human being. It is full of promise.
Good story. Yes when a person does not fully trust God and His grace. These things happen. I am a counselor and see it all around. Praise God your husband was there for you.
Your honesty is so encouraging! I think a lot of people go through this but are too ashamed to admit it. Thank you! It’s so encouraging to know I’m not the only human in this world 🤣
Thanks, Natalie. ☺️
This reminded me of a children’s book I read years ago, I Found My Missing Piece. A circle with a missing piece found it was not necessary to be perfect to be happy.
https://www.youtube.com/embed/7me_TqoLPXQ
That’s a really neat story, Romaine.
As you judge, so also you will be judged. The way we judge others, is the way we judge ourselves. When we are brought up, trained to behave, to believe in performing a certain way, is what we then come to believe is the correct way. We then place that burden, that yoke, upon ourselves, perhaps even unconsciously. And we also place that burden, those expectations on others. We need to realize that we, us, all have different limits. Which are not the limits or expectations, set according to the church or culture we grew up in, but by God.
Man made expectations, are not God made expectations.
God has completely different expectations than those placed on us in this world. He expects kindness, understanding, and helpfulness towards others.
None of us are 100 percent all the time. We have our limitations.
I’ve noticed that most Mennonites are trained up to live very regimented lives.
Among them is the expectation that others in the church should conform to the churches standards. In dress, in participation, in achieving. Mennonites have a very rigid structure. Yet are they, we, conforming to be holy?, as he is holy, and righteous?, or are we replacing the commandments of God with the traditions and requirement or expectations of man?. God’s yoke is light. Man’s yoke is burdensome, as the pharisees yoke was, because of the thousands of extra regulations they added to God’s Commands, according to their oral law, the Mishnah, according to their man made religion.
Christ was sent to free us from that burdensome yoke.
Yet so many churches place man’s yoke, upon themselves, as if they were saved by those works of their laws.
Colossians 2:8. See to it that no one takes you captive by philosophy and empty deceit, according to human tradition, according to the elemental spirits of the world, and not according to Christ. 9 For in him the whole fullness of deity dwells bodily. 10 and you have been filled in him, who is the head of all rule and authority.
20 If with Christ you died to the elemental spirits of the world, why as if you were still in the world, do you submit to regulations 21 Do not touch, Do not handle, Do not taste, Do not touch, according to human precepts and teachings ? 23 These have indeed an appearance of wisdom in promoting self- made religion and asceticism and severity to the body, but they are of no value in stopping the indulgence of the flesh!
This conforming to be holy is the most important thing!! When we grasp this, all the other things are not a chore ..they come from love for God!!
Stephen, just reading this comment again. Thank you for an in-depth and thoughtful reply.
I think you might be interested in Asher Witmer’s blog. https://asherwitmer.com/hello/
He discusses many issues involving the church and Christian living, and from what I gather, you have a similar perspective and interests.
Our eldest son called us from college in Chicago yesterday.
He was troubled, crying even, and without energy.
He said, “Why is this happening to me? I should be happy. I have loving parents. I am in a good situation with a nice place to stay and friends around me and things to do. I am blessed. But I am empty. My anti-depressant medication just makes me feel nothing. My life feels like nothing. I wake-up and it takes me two hours to get out of bed. I’m busy, but it doesn’t mean anything to me anymore.”
As a parent now, you know that you’re only as happy as your sickest kid. So to read this blog post of yours was just a “God closing a door and opening a window” moment.
Thanks, Luci.
You do good work, and you’re helping people with your thinking and your praying and your writing, at least my family in Lancaster County, PA.
Blessings on your week.
Thank you, Brendan. That means a lot. And I will pray for healing for your son.
Boy, do I identify with what you wrote, except for the self harm! I grew up feeling as if I could never measure up, no matter what I accomplished. And when I screwed up, I beat myself up mentally/emotionally for days, even after I had a Master’s degree in English under my belt.. (Guess that’s self-harm, too.) I can’t remember what finally woke me up, but it dawned on me that all humans make mistakes. No one gets it right all the time, so I decided to practice forgiving myself when I messed up, so I could move on. Pretty freeing! Are you familiar with Brene Brown’s work on vulnerability? She writes about the courage it takes to show our vulnerability. I applaud you for the courage/vulnerability you showed in this blog.
Thank you, Phoebe. Yes, beating ourselves up mentally is just as much self harm as doing it physically. That’s a big part of the reason why I wanted to write about my experience, because it is such an apt metaphor. I realized that this is what I often do mentally to myself, beat myself up when I can’t produce the results I think I should, and how wrong and shortsighted that is. And then, when a result does turn out well, instead of celebrating and feeling good about it, I shrug my shoulders and say, “That’s as it should be.” I want to work on that too, and have started asking myself at the end of every day, “What do you celebrate about today?” Yesterday I celebrated writing this blog post, even though it was rather embarrassing. :) I am familiar with Brene Brown and have been blessed and encouraged by her work to be okay with vulnerability.
The message above, supposedly by Brendan Armitage at 6:43 p.m., should be Phoebe Wiley.
Thanks for sharing so honestly with us, Luci. I can relate to your feelings of inadequacy and brokenness, and I’ve noticed that when I set pride aside and allow others to really see me, they surprise me with their own version of brokenness. I think that to be human in this world is to be broken and we are here to support one another.
To be human in this world is to be broken. Yes.
I have feelings of inadequacy when it comes to my health. I suffer with allergy asthma which is aggravated by so many things :( dust, pollen, heat, humidity, dampness. I’ve spent years and years disappointing people because I can’t make it to something, can’t go to work, cancel people coming over. I wish I was healthier for my husbands sake…. One part of me accepts my health situation, but I still dislike immensely letting people down. It does my head in for the rest of the day and actually causes stress which makes the original situation worse. I know all about brokenness. I am very familiar with it. I’ve spent years praying to be healed of this, but still it remains, so I ask for the strength to live a life that brings Him glory regardless of how my health might be on any given day. My husband and the Lord are my rocks. Bless you for your honesty and courage Luci x
Thank you Linda for this understanding and encouraging reply. I’m sorry you deal with poor health. That would be such a discouragement! But yes, God can use you in his own way and time. Our sufficiency is of him, and one thing our inadequacies do is make us more in tune with him.
Thank you, Luci. I’ve been here, at least my own “here.” There is something about acknowledging our own brokenness that banishes pride. Suddenly, we feel very human, like everyone else. And for me at least, that brings relief, knowing I don’t have to live up to some impossible super-human standard I’ve created for myself.
Yes!
What you write about performing/perfection is something that I have lived with, and have been able to grow so much in. But lately I am finally understanding how along with that, being hard on myself, I did not have good boundaries, and allowed others to be harsh and critical of me, also. And I wasn’t helping them in their own life’s issues by not allowing them to take advantage of me, because deep inside I didn’t think I was worth being treated well, anyway.
Thankfully, we’re never too old to learn and change, in growing to be like Jesus!
I meant “by ALLOWING them to take advantage of me”…
That’s interesting, Wendy. I have also in the past not created good boundaries and allowed others to verbally abuse me and took the blame for it. But I didn’t think of the two tendencies as related. That’s a good insight. Thank you! And yes, amen! I will continue to grow, praise Jesus.
Thank you, Luci, for your honesty. Amazing how we can beat ourselves up in many different ways. Regarding the challenges of parenting, maybe I’ve said this before on here, but I wish I could tell every new parent that they might as well turn in their ‘Perfect Parent’ card right off the bat….we all try so hard to be one in the beginning, but we might as well give it up right away…much more relaxing….:)
Good advice, Judy. Thanks. You did say it before, but I need to hear it again. :)