It hurts when our heart is broken. When the first girl I thought I really loved snubbed me for another boy in my teens, I was brokenhearted. When I was away at boot camp and found out that my long time girlfriend cheated on me, I was brokenhearted. When I made a costly mistake and it seemed like there was nowhere to turn and the depression convinced me that everyone was better off without me around, I was brokenhearted. When a company I loved being a part of was carved up and sold off to become a completely different environment, I was brokenhearted. When a beloved pet became sick and there was nothing we could do to fix it, I was brokenhearted. When I watched the movie The Passion of The Christ the first time, I was brokenhearted. When I watched the person I loved and admired most in this life be overcome and taken away from me by cancer, I was brokenhearted. Seeing friends lose loved ones (especially children), I have been brokenhearted alongside their deep grief and brokenheartedness.
If you live even just a little while on this earth, your heart will get broken. This you can count on.
For some, it seems they have learned to brace themselves, to harden their hearts, and thicken their skin so that pain doesn’t cut them as deeply. But I’ve never learned this skill. I still cry at sad movies, love songs, beautiful stories, and convicting sermons. And don’t get me started on those advertisements with the sad animals or starving children encouraging (or manipulating) us to send money. Brokenheartedness seems to not just occasionally chase me down, but to be always just under the surface each day.
There was a powerful moment of brokenheartedness in my life just after my daughter was first born. After worrying for way too long in advance that I might be a bad father, my daughter’s first grab of my finger latched hold off my heart in an indescribable way. At one point in the hospital, someone needed to go by our house to check on our animals and to bring some extra supplies. But my heart and mind couldn’t even process the possibility of leaving the side of my wife and newborn daughter. I completely broke down right there in the hospital room, devastated at even the thought of it. I was brokenhearted in such a special and lovely way that day.
So I know what it means to be brokenhearted.
But I am still here. I am not crushed. I am not defeated. And neither are you.
I love this verse from the Psalms:
Psalms 34:18 NLT
The Lord is close to the brokenhearted; he rescues those whose spirits are crushed.
https://bible.com/bible/116/psa.34.18.NLT
In those moments of pain, our feelings seem to scream, telling us to avoid the pain of brokenheartedness, begging us to never let this happen again. It actually can feel emotionally like we are being crushed under the weight of a great burden when this happens. Everything in our flesh screams, “Make it stop! Make it go away! This is TOO MUCH!”
But we can look back now on those times in the past, and see them more clearly. We survived it. And it wasn’t because there was no real threat to our hearts or no real pain. The pain was real, and it may have truly been more than we could handle.
Scripture tells us that in those moments of brokenheartedness, we are not alone. It doesn’t even add “if you remember to call on me” or “if your faith is strong enough”. No, at those times of brokenheartedness, there is no strength left in us. He draws closer to us, not because of anything we’ve done to deserve His love. He draws near to us when our hearts are well tenderized — because that’s when we are closest to the likeness of God.
I watch my daughter go through this life just like my parents and grandparents watched me grow up. When she makes mistakes or decisions that I know may have negative consequences, it hurts that I can’t just “fix it for her” like I did when she was a child. But she is a teenager and will soon be a young adult, and I must allow her room to make mistakes and learn lessons. We can academically teach others what is wise versus what is foolish, but life is where the lessons are tested and proven.
I don’t want my daughter to be heartbroken, but I intellectually know that it is a necessary part of life — even for her. Now, I take that and multiply my heart towards my daughter and consider how an Almighty Heavenly Father who has all wisdom and understanding must feel watching all of humanity stumble it’s way through heartbreak and lesson, time after time.
I’m reminded of a favorite song for when I’m overwhelmed emotionally:
And it includes a wonderful quote from the John Piper sermon:
As many have been in the path of Hurricanes or wars or other emotional devastation lately, it encourages me that there is this promise from the Word of God that we aren’t alone, and that it isn’t meaningless.
I love you my friends, and if you are going through a dark time and need prayer or encouragement, I can’t fix it, but we can sit in the mud together, reminding each other that we are not alone, and that this too is working in our hearts something that we may not fully understand or appreciate right now.
Harold J. Ballinger 