Beck Wattier

Broken, All Things


I’m looking at this screen and wondering if this is a good idea. It’s not that I don’t have words or thoughts or feelings to get out there, but I am afraid to start to open that door because of the flood of things that is pent up behind it. I’m at a place where I feel pretty beat up by life, and yet still captivated by the beauty of it. It’s been a very intense and hard season of transition and change for me and I think I’ve been doing pretty well with it, but the internal circus that has been going on has been pretty exhausting. There are days where I’m staring at my phone at a loss for who to call. And although I’m praying there are days where I wonder if it’s actually going through, where’s the response? My faith has really been tested lately and there have been a few days where I just didn’t know if I wanted to keep going with it. I am overwhelmed by the injustice of this world, from promises that don’t have to be upheld, to people that can just walk away when they want to, to bigger issues of broken systems and the human condition.

We talk about this world being broken but having hope, but often the brokenness is out there, and the hope much closer. Then sometimes the brokenness does actually touch us, it comes in to affect our family, our friends, in our circles. But then still, there are times where we realize, it’s not just out there, its not just in here, but it’s in me. I’m broken. And so the brokenness is no longer something that can be blamed on any person, or even really any system. The brokenness is a problem that we will never be able to alleviate or fix or maneuver around. Our world is broken. Things are not as they should be. And just because we choose to follow Jesus and live that out faithfully, does not change the effects of the brokenness. This is a sobering reality.

One of my biggest struggles in single life is the unstableness of all things. There is not one constant. Committed friends are free to pack up and leave whenever they want, church community comes and goes, jobs are not forever, home is only home until the lease is up. None of these are something that someone is doing wrong but all of these are reality. People throw around the terms family, and belonging, and you can trust me. But we can’t. It’s not actually true. Maybe we can ‘trust’ some people, but there are still things outside of their control so what they say may or may not stand. But this isn’t just a feeling and issue specific to my life is it? We are all there if we want to be honest. Deep within us all is a little aching, we know that we are not secure, we know that there are things outside of our control, we know that there are people that we couldn’t live without but that very well may leave us. We say our hope isn’t in material things but in people. Because those are much more reliable? People will (albeit unintentionally) keep you around as long as you fill a spot, close friends turn away, spouses cheat, and the most well intentioned out of all of these will eventually die.

The answer is not to find better friends, or a church that gets it, or to get married, or a more secure job with stable income, or to move to a country with a better government, or….fill in the blank. The cold, hard, but beautiful and glorious reality is that we are in this world, but this world is broken, and we were never intended to exist in a broken world. The harshness and the pain and the sting of brokenness points all of us to the fact that this world is not our final home.

I’ve been in a season where this has been made so real to me. Inside of this fleshly shell that I live in is me, a soul and spirit. This body will fall apart and decompose, I will carry on. We will all carry on. In light of that, things change.

Christ is my Rock. That doesn’t mean I’m stable. It means He is. And when I feel like I am going to be blown away, I cling to Him even tighter. Clinging is not a restful picture. It’s a fight. It comes in the hardest of times and the darkest of days. It takes energy and focus and a choosing to refuse to let go.

I don’t have a powerful happy ending here because frankly I don’t have all the answers. But I do know this- Christ has never let me go. Drawing near to Him does not mean all the problems and hurts vanish, but there has never been a time that I draw near and find He isn’t there.



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