“Therefore,
we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are
being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving
for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So, we fix our eyes not on
what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what
is unseen is eternal.”
—2 Corinthians
4:16-18.
“B” is for “Broken,” as I give
attention to our writing prompt for February.
I am Broken
My years as a pastor and
healthcare chaplain allowed me many opportunities to learn about people. My
greatest learning curve came from the people I came alongside who grappled with
terminal illness. There were also those who drifted into their own world
because of the grip of dementia. Through them, I learned I am broken.
In my last year as a chaplain,
a long-term care resident I met made an indelible mark on my soul. She could no
longer take care of herself at home and had no family members to care for her
close by. The care facility I worked in became her best option. Dementia had
now become part of her life.
The first visit I had with
this woman remains one of my cherished memories. She invited me into her room
as if we had known each other for years. In my typical fashion, I glanced over
her room and noticed poems framed and pinned to the walls. I asked her about
the poems. With the enthusiasm similar to a younger child, she informed me she
wrote them.
As our conversation continued,
she asked me if I liked to write. When I told her I was also a writer, she
giggled again. She informed me she could no longer write as she once did. Her
next statement is one I remember to this day. She said, “I would like to write more,
but the words are all jumbled in my head. My brain is broken. I can’t get the
words out.”
Broken Words
There are times the words we
write may be broken. They fall and almost collapse on to the page in need of
guidance and love. Broken words come from a broken writer. Broken by personal
sin or damage caused by other people. A writer’s words may also reflect the
woundedness of a broken world. We may waste away because of our grief over the
lost condition of the world.
The lady I mentioned earlier
seemed to have accepted her brokenness. She acknowledged her condition with a
smile. While we talked, she held my hand at one point. Perhaps this was a way
of her connecting with me. She looked into my eyes, smiled, held my hand, and
told me about her writing like a mother talking about her children. Praise God
for such innocent expressions in a broken world.
Broken, not Beaten.
As Christians, we can show the world to be broken does not mean we are beaten. We can still bring hope and healing to our readers through what we write. This means we do not lose heart; we do not quit. Our brokenness is not wasted. We can all be healers.
Be A
Healer
By
Alan Anderson,
Be a
healer,
Turn
coarse words into healing balm.
Looks
beyond narrative meant to cripple.
Show
the way to peace, true peace,
beyond
understanding,
Soaked
in love.
Shoulders
of healers,
Are
where those with weary heads rest.
Outstretched
arms provide an oasis for hugs,
Closeness
allows hearts to beat together.
Walk
into the world to live what love is,
Hold
the hands of those who stumble,
Those
who fall in the darkness,
For we
are all broken.
Dear writer friends,
How do you incorporate your
own brokenness into your poetry or prose?
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Alan lives in Deroche, B.C.
with his wife, Terry, and their poodle, Charlie. He contributed stories to Good
Grief People by Angel Hope Publishing, 2017; Story by Story: The Power of a
Writer, Unstoppable Writers Publishing, 2018; Easter Stories & More by
InScribe Christian Writers’ Fellowship, 2021. He is currently working on a book
expressing the grief of grieving grandparents entitled “Hidden Poetic Voices: A
Reflective Work of Grief, Faith, and Poetry.” Alan periodically writes articles
for FellowScript Magazine. He has written posts for our InScribe blog since
2015. Blog: https://scarredjoy.ca.
