Broken and Beautiful

I've been contemplating lately, the gift of presence and the gift of compassion and the beauty of being broken and vulnerable. Now, if you know me, you probably know I am typically not comfortable with my own vulnerability or brokenness...for a long time, I've associated those two words with weakness, but recently, my mind has begun to change on that topic. I link a lot of my change of heart to this amazing interaction I had with a very good friend of mine. (Let me just say that I don't know if she knows how good of a friend I consider her, but I do love her very, very much.) Anyway, we were discussing our pasts, the pains and the sorrows, the horribly painful events that had been experienced. The painful memories she shared with me touched me so deeply. Her testimony is so powerful. She was dealt a terrible hand, but God was faithful and stayed near and brought her through. She has been broken, but she is so beautiful. Her faith was shaken, but her faith is so beautiful. She is so strong, now. She is so lovely and so incredible. I was admiring the beauty in her brokenness...and listening to her speak of God's presence in all of it. One sentence she said struck me at my very core: "I believe Jesus wept with me that day on the boat." If you know much about me, you probably know that I hate that I cry as much as I do. I find my tears embarrassing. I hate how vulnerable they make me. I hate that they make me feel so broken and weak. But as I thought about that sentence, I remembered that verse "Jesus wept." She wasn't ridiculous in talking about Jesus's tears. Jesus wept. He wept, and it didn't mean that He was weak or ridiculous. It meant that He loved us and had compassion. He was a bleeding heart. The more I thought about it, the more it made sense, and the more I could relate...the more it revealed to me about myself. As I lay there in the dark in my friend's room, I cried. I waited 'til I knew she was asleep, and then I softly cried in my sleeping bag...because I love her so much. That's when I realized that my crying doesn't make me weak and ridiculous. I cry because my heart breaks for people and my heart swells with love for people. I cry because I care. I can remember so many times when I cried for my bff Alli as she played her marimba. In those moments, I was struck with how beautiful and talented she was. I was so proud of her and so filled with love, that I would cry in the back of the audience. I can remember so many times when I cried for my little sister as she ran at a track meet. She'd hit the backstretch, and tears would run down my cheeks because I was so proud of her and loved her so much. She is so beautiful, especially when she runs. I would marvel at how God created her...He created her beautifully and to do so much good...and He created her to be fast, and to see her run, would bring me to tears. On the other hand, I have wept many a time on my friend's behalf, or alongside them. I can remember a number of occasions when I was listening to my friend tell me about his/her life, experiences, concerns, whatever and crying along with them. It broke my heart to see them hurting like that. It broke my heart to see their pain, and I all I could do was cry with them. There are other times, when I've read e-mails or reflected on conversations with friends, and wept. I would think on what they were experiencing, the pain in their lives, and I would want so badly to give them a huge hug or make it all better, but I can't...all I can do is cry. I used to think that was ridiculously futile, useless, but what my friend said about Jesus weeping with her, made me realize that it had merit and value...that my tears were not in vain. Maybe the emotions that leak out of my face, maybe the feelings themselves say something about me...maybe they are something I have to offer. I have been told my bleeding heart was useless and would get in the way of helping others. My (ex) boyfriend said I couldn't handle nursing because I would be too sensitive. For the longest time, what he said had me really concerned about my ability to care for others, to help others. Every clinical day I made it through seemed like a victory...like I was slowly proving him wrong. Recently, though, I realized how ridiculous his words were. He told me I was too caring to be a nurse?!? Really?!? Isn't it incredible how lies can lead you to think that the things that make you lovely are the things that make you broken and weak? It is to me. I find it incredible that we can be so hurt by the lies about our own beauty. I mean, all the times we have trusted and it has ended up only hurting us, the times we've put ourselves out there only to be rejected...it tells us we have nothing to offer, that we are too weak and vulnerable, but to be vulnerable and broken because of the love we have for our Lord and for others...that's what it is to be beautiful...it's bold to be broken...it's bold to be honest...it's bold to allow yourself to be vulnerable. That's why my friend has blown me away the past couple weeks. I don't know if I have the guts to be vulnerable like she is, to write the letter she wrote. Her beauty leaves me in awe and has got me thinking about what it is that makes me lovely...what a blessing...