endurance, faith

Broken Hallelujah

The Lord has promised good to me.  He has promised, and yet sometimes I feel so… so disappointed.

My story, the story of grace and forgiveness and hope? It’s not the story I imagined.  I struggle to accept the wearisome battles I am facing.  I wrestle with the painful realities that have replaced some of my dreams.  Is that the point; reach the point of giving up? Perhaps only in my giving up, He will make something beautiful of my story.  I am weary. So weary.  Searing tears have brought me begging, “please take this, carry it for me because it’s too heavy right now.”

Will He gather the sharp fringes of my story, until I can bear this chapter?  My desperation to see the beauty woven with these threads runs deep. I want to believe there is loveliness beneath the turmoil.  I want to see that the salty burn of tears has watered to life something magnificent, and that the conclusion of my story will be something to cheer about.

I know He knows the story of every tear, and even in the deep raggedness of these chapters, I have not walked alone. I’ve seen joy and I’ve seen pain, and oh my weakened soul may you not forget the mountains you have stood on!  It is so easy for me to see the darkness swallow the light in the epicenter of my brokenness, but hasn’t He promised:

“A bruised reed<span class="crossreference" style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0); font-weight: bold; vertical-align: top;" value="(A)”> he will not break,

   and a smoldering wick he will not snuff out.

In faithfulness he will bring forth justice.”

Isaiah 42:3

That’s me; I am bruised, I am smoldering, and He is faithful.  He will vindicate my inmost hurts and soften the sharp points of my disappointments.  Hold on soul! Don’t let go of His promises; they are true even in the murk of these hard, hard days.  Sit back, and let God be the one who writes your story. When life is filled with things you don’t expect, respond with trust, worship, hope.  He wants your praise, even your broken hallelujahs.

Have you ever seen the back of a piece of cross-stitching?  It is messy! Messy and confusing and not pretty to look at.  But the front of the piece? It’s beautiful, every stitch placed perfectly.  Without that messy back story, that work of art wouldn’t exist.  I hope that will be true of my story; disheveled magnificence.


How do you find peace in the difficult pages of your life?


1 thought on “Broken Hallelujah”

  1. Hannah,
    May you be filled with newness of life, a breath of fresh hope, a stirring of your soul to grasp on to life to be lived. No one can or ever will be able to feel your individual pain, not even those closest, because it is yours (as is each of ours). Sometimes there is nothing more consoling than having someone understand us. But we are not left alone; we have a God who lost His Son and the Son who lost his (earthly) life. As you enter into what may be a difficult season of remembrance, may you feel His Spirit touch you in a new way with Grace, Love, Joy, Sufficiency, Forgiveness, Peace, Hope, Gentleness and Mercy… all that He is in you and always wants to be through you. He knows every tear. Rest. You are loved.



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