Broken is a lonely road. It is a dry and desperate place and no one wants to live there. I will venture to say that all of us have lived at this address at one point or another in our lives, especially when we secretly whisper those three, sincere words, “God. . . use me!” And the ordained, tearing down and rebuilding of our hearts begins, if not for the first time, then once again to the glory and purpose of His will.
Broken, however, is not a road we do alone. Jesus was continuously connected to the Father, yes, but He did life with people too. He had His people! There were the crowds of thousands, the seventy, and even the twelve disciples. They were with Him doing life. Laughing with Him, ministering alongside Him, and experiencing tears and sorrow with Him. The twelve sat in the garden called Gethsemane. But there was His inner circle; the three that He took with Him. They saw it all; the ugly. In one way or another, they were with Jesus in His suffering to the very end on the cross. Were they perfect? No. Was their friendship messy? One-sided? Unfaithful? You bet! Jesus knew them though. He knew Peter’s true name: Rock. John, He loved. He knew their hearts!
Being a friend to the broken doesn’t mean perfection and it doesn’t always mean happy or pretty. It just IS BEING THERE for them, without the answers, without the words at times. On occasion, it’s not giving any time when the broken one wants your time, but you give your selfless prayers in battle for their minds and souls.
Be a friend to the broken.