Like anyone who has been a pastor, there were times throughout my thirty-plus years of pastoral ministry when it felt like I couldn’t possibly get more discouraged and broken….only to find out I could. But God never deserted me, though I must often have gotten on his last nerve. And he brought me through every dark valley…but not without scars.
But as in nature, so in life: there is a beauty in broken things. Including broken pastors and broken people. There is a definite beauty in things that are not quite symmetrical, not even, not perfect, not all “put together” and “buttoned down.”
I sometimes meet folks in my travels that seem to have it “all together.” Maybe they do, maybe they don’t. But there also often seems to be something missing. Maybe they haven’t yet been broken and melted and poured out in the Master’s hands, to be used in such a way that all the glory goes to God (2 Corinthians 4:7).
It is a mystery. But God helping me, I will trust God to break me…and keep breaking me, that he might use me more, use me again, maybe even use me more effectively, according to his will. I wish the breaking could be all done, but I suspect not.
My all is in the master’s hands
For him to bless and break;
Beyond the brook his winepress stands
And thence my way I take,
Resolved the whole of love’s demands
To give, for his dear sake (General Albert Orsborn).