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  • Writer's pictureJasmine N. Tucker

Broken People

Broken People.

Why is everyone around me broken? I often ask myself this because I simply do not understand why I haven’t met one person who doesn’t have it all together. People who do not have insecurities, who have never been hurt, or who has never experienced loneliness before. Do they even exist? Are they even real?

There are so many people who do not know how to love or how to accept love because someone failed to love them the way they deserved and they haven’t experienced real love to even know what real love looks like. Better yet, they experienced real love but refuse to accept the real love for what it is but instead mask it with a problem because nothing ever goes good for them in their life, right?

There are so many people who are entitled and protected from the pain of the world, but the first time they experience pain - they run, hide, and blame everyone else while they play victim instead of utilizing their strengths through resiliency.

There are so many people who overly give themselves to people because their decency was taken from them by some trash man or woman, so they lack self worth.

There are so many people who still don't believe they are worth love, rather a chance at love, because no matter how many times their daddy and mommy told them they were beautiful, they still couldn’t see past their flaws.

There are so many people who blame God for every wrong turn in their life instead of thanking God for every right turn because they never had the privilege to know Jesus at the cross - to know his blood, his grace, his mercy, and his unconditional love.

There are so many people who are hurting and in hindsight they unconsciously and some intentionally hurt others. People are hurting. People are crying out. People are emotionally rotting without hope for saving. People are drowning in their own anxiety, pain, and sorrow to where they can’t even see the lifeguard name Jesus throwing out his lifesaver of grace to save them.

…..we are hurting. We are broken. We are not perfect. I am not perfect. There is some brokenness inside of me, inside of all of us. There is no one perfect. The tears you cry eventually forms a river that carries you from the valley to the mountain. The suicidal thoughts you had and never were successful with are God’s constant reminders of his grace. There is no one without a scar. The beauty about scars, they tell stories. Those stories may not always be heartfelt, but they are a constant reminder of why we should press. Why press? So we don’t go through what God spared us from. Why keep going even though it is easier to give up? Because those scars, those stories, could save someone’s life...could give someone hope...could make someone feel as though they are not alone...could literally be the only positive chance someone has because your scars, your stories...are beautiful.

Broken crayons still color. You still color. We still color. We still have purpose. God yet has purpose for us all. And THAT is the good news of it all.

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