I love the way the autumn sunlight pours through the windows in the morning, the unadulterated rectangles of light drawing out across the floor. My dogs and cat love it, too. I will frequently find them sprawled out in the warmth of the rays, bellies exposed, eyes closed, drifting into a morning or afternoon nap. It is quite perfect. That ray of sunlight is quite perfect, unbroken, and whole, spreading its radiance and warmth in one place. The unblemished windowpane is pristine; the light is unfiltered and whole.



Have you ever seen a broken windowpane where the glass is cracked in a spiderweb of fissures? One where the window looks like a puzzle of shards, and we are unsure of how it is still held together. We hurry to replace the broken glass because it obstructs our view and interferes with the light. It’s not so pretty, or is it?

That broken glass lets the sunlight in but in a different manner. It refracts the light in another way that makes it bounce all over the place, allowing brightness to pierce areas of darkness that the daylight would have never reached if not for the cracks in the glass. The glass’s imperfections and brokenness are used to share illumination, dancing prisms moving in a dazzling performance to other areas that otherwise would not have enjoyed light from the perfect window. The fractures in the glass spread light in a beautiful and supernatural way, permeating dark areas with its radiant light and warm glow.

It’s funny, we often don’t see the beauty of broken things, of things that are to be discarded, thrown away, and trashed. The irony is that each and every one of us is broken in some way, and we are always looking for ways to repair, replace, or hide our brokenness. But those broken areas are where some of the most incredible beauty lies. But in trying to fix it or keep it concealed from the rest of the world, we don’t share that beauty with others. Our own brokenness just might be a light for someone else, but we become so embarrassed, so concerned about appearances and what others might think, we hide it. We lose our light.

While we all want to heal our own brokenness (and we should), our brokenness may actually help heal someone else. Our imperfections may help somebody else realize they’re not as broken as they thought, that there are others out there like them, and that it is okay. Use your imperfections and brokenness to help others shine, and you might just find out that you’re helping yourself heal. Sharing often leads to support, which often leads directly to healing. God doesn’t waste anything.
In A Farewell to Arms, Ernest Hemingway wrote, “The world breaks everyone and afterward, many are strong at the broken places.” I, for one, believe this to be true. But I also believe that power and healing comes from sharing your brokenness for the benefit of others; therein lies your strength.

So today, find the beauty in the brokenness, embrace your imperfections, and share your struggles with someone else. You have no idea how that might benefit both of you. And today, please pray for me, and I will continue to pray for you.