Brokenness is something we do not usually talk about. Human as we are, we always have this sense of self-preservation. We don’t want people to see our flaws, our imperfections. And believe me, we have been so good in putting on a good self-image of us in social media. I for one am not exempted about this. I invest time in social media. And I know that you’d understand me when I tell you that, we only want people to see the good in us.

And today, I will be writing about brokenness. How I am proud to be one broken piece. How I met broken people like me. And how, despite our messy lives, we could still rejoice and move forward to a new hope. I am truly thankful for the lives of messy people like me who inspired me to finally write this down.

In her book, Mended, Angie Smith talks about her experience trying to put together a shattered piece of pitcher. The pitcher, never looked the same with all the cracks and gaps that have to be filled. That is a perfect illustration of brokenness. I know how that feels, to be shattered beyond repair. To feel worthless, unforgivable, unworthy, unlovable and all the “un’s” in the world. It’s crazy to live in guilt and fear. It’s crazier when you couldn’t forgive yourself – When you keep on replay ing in your head the mistakes you made and keep looking for answers you know you might never get. Yes, for the past few months, life felt like swallowing  a needle in every attempt of sharing my story. It’s CRAZY. And believe me when I tell you that there are still days when I feel the same. I get by. And today, by God’s overflowing grace, I am better.

To ease the pain of brokenness, I have filled my life with activities and schedules. I continued with my studies and filled my vacant time with ministry after ministry and work after work. It was draining actually. It helped me forget, but it didn’t get me anywhere nearer to healing. And I am overly thankful that the Lord has also used these schedules to remind me of his sovereignty and control over my life. How I’m such a control freak. How I am such an “escapist” ( zee, thanks for the word!) when things go out of hand. I am thankful for the struggle. The bargaining. And awakening.

Brokenness taught me that cracks and scars don’t just go away. And perhaps they never will. They say scars remind us of the pain. But for me, it reminds me of God’s mercy. His faithfulness and promise for my good. I also learned that the more I focused into my imperfections, the gaps that needed to be filled, I lose sight of Christ. The gaps are there to remind me of where I was, but they are never meant for me to fill. Therefore, I can not keep living my life dwelling on the what-ifs and could-haves. I wish I was wise enough to understand this earlier. 

Brokenness isn’t totally bad after all. What the Lord requires of us is to have broken and contrite hearts before Him. And it is in our brokenness that we experience the greatest of miracles and abounding grace. 

For the past months, I have met all sorts of broken people. There were those who are in the process of healing, and are on their way to having their lives back together, just as I am right now. Maybe not exactly back together, but I’m starting over. Waiting for His direction. Leading. Overflowing grace. Mercy. Repeat. There were also those that were broken beyond description. And meeting them allowed me to see beyond my brokenness and minister to them as Christ would want us to. I am truly thankful that the Lord has also given me broken people to minister to me when I was in the worst shape of my life.

He can mend the pieces. He can fill the gaps. He can use broken people.

Originally posted at

Published by Katherine Gatela