THE SANCTUARY OF BEING BROKEN
The verses from today’s Psalm offer profound comfort: “The Lord is close to the brokenhearted; those who are crushed in spirit he saves.” This promise is a strange gift, because it validates the necessity of the crushing, the moment where we are finally emptied of our own strength.
I remember when I felt “crushed in spirit” after a breakup. In that season, I thought my prayers had to be eloquent and neat. Thankfully, God shows me in simple ways that He doesn't require perfection. As a choir singer, I’m reminded that the sincere intention behind a song can be more important than hitting every note flawlessly. On a retreat, I found an even deeper image of this truth: a rosary that was missing one of its beads. To me, it symbolized how prayer can be flawed, yet remain whole in God's eyes.
My turning point came when I applied this lesson to my pain. I didn't utter a formal prayer but I simply sat and wept. In that moment, the Lord heard me. My honest cry was the vulnerable me God was waiting for.
The experience was precisely the detour God needed to take me on. It cleared the way for a different, infinitely better story. Today, I look at the man who is now my fiancé, the exact partner I need, the one who honors me and my faith and I see not a second chance, but God's first plan, perfectly executed.
This Advent, the Psalm is a profound instruction to me: Never be afraid of being broken. Our greatest hope is not in our ability to endure the trials, but in our willingness to become lowly enough to receive God’s true refuge.
I am consistently inspired by the below lyric from Sarah Hart’s song “Better Than a Hallelujah”:
God loves the drunkard's cry
The soldier's plea not to let him die
Better than a Hallelujah sometimes
We pour out our miseries
God just hears a melody
Beautiful, the mess we are
The honest cries of breaking hearts
Are better than a Hallelujah
Alyssa Bellia