Baskets of Broken Pieces

I carried the container of sand home on a three-hour road trip. Sun and friendship and salty air will always be fond memories connected to that little bag of sand. And something else—brokenness. The glorious shore we dig our toes into consists of tiny particles from weathered rock, shells, and other bits from ocean life. Broken bits of blessing.

I’m in a shifting season of life right now. Nothing is ever perfect, but there will always be seasons of scarcity as well as seasons of surplus. One thing I do know is this: even when you receive your miracle, you will still be broken.

Let me repeat that. Even when you get your miracle, you will still be broken.

Yet brokenness is not what I once thought it was. Brokenness is blessing. Brokenness is beautiful.

Jesus fed more than five thousand people by breaking apart what was already a shortage. And yet, because it was blessed and broken, the shortage became a surplus of “twelve baskets of broken pieces” (Luke 9:17).

It seems ironic that the aftermath of this miracle was simultaneously a great blessing and completely broken. And yet, this is precisely what Jesus always wanted us to understand. Jesus instructed us to remember his body through the breaking of bread (Luke 22:19). It was His broken body, blessed by oneness with the Father, that produced a miracle.

When Jesus was resurrected and stayed with two men He met on the road, they only recognized him when He broke and blessed bread (Luke 24: 30-31). Jesus “was known to them in the breaking of the bread” (Luke 24:35). You might say this was Jesus’ trademark. He broke, blessed, and gave bread just as He broke, blessed, and gave His body for our salvation.

One month after Christmas, you may be feeling broken. Maybe your miracle has not arrived, or maybe it has. Nevertheless, your brokenness can remind you of God’s enduring faithfulness. Like the sand of the shore, every weathered piece of the seasons you’ve endured are a blessing to someone today. God will resurrect—and bless—the most broken of circumstances, and the pieces leftover are made beautiful in oneness with Him.

This article was inspired by a poem I wrote on Christmas Day 2020. I will conclude with this:

The aftermath of a miracle

Is nothing short of blessing

And yet it is the pinnacle

Of what comes after suffering

For when you’ve made it through

A time when you have nothing

The broken bits remind you

A miracle was coming