Being Broken

My whole life, I've been a fixer. I've always been of the mindset that if I worked hard or put forth a strong enough effort, there wasn't a problem or a life event that I couldn't handle on my own.

This part of my makeup has some positive aspects ... I am dedicated and hardworking; I am a good problem-solver; and I have a strong desire for those I love to be happy. The less than positive side of this trait makes me tend to be unwilling to ask for help when I truly need it, and it makes me prideful and arrogant at times.

There have been several times in my life when God has gone out of His way to get my attention, when there were so many "God things" happening around me that it was eventually impossible for me to ignore Him or run from Him any longer. The first time God stopped me in my tracks was a little over 10 years ago when I finally recognized my state apart from Him, acknowledged my sin and entered into a personal relationship with Jesus Christ. And throughout those 10 years, as much as I hate to admit it, there have been instances when God has used some drastic measures to drive me to my knees and draw me back to Him. And through each of those circumstances, God has humbled me, grown me and loved me beyond measure.

I don't pretend to understand why there are valleys and deserts in life ... I don't pretend to understand why I feel the need to try to do things my own way at times ... I don't pretend to understand why sometimes I wander away from the One who loves me most. I do, however, understand that when I finally fall to my knees and admit that I'm ready to be broken, He is already there ... waiting for me to come home ... home where I belong.