Broken And Crippled

What we have brought to the Sabbath Dance and what God has brought in return. It is not now, nor will it ever be, a fair exchange. We bring our brokenness; some of it we can hardly bear to name, some of it we cannot name at all. God brings forgetfulness, so that it might never again be named. If we will let it go, then we will be empty, we will be clean, we will have room in our hearts for the Word. Robert Benson



Whenever you find tears in your eyes, especially unexpected tears, it is well to pay the closest attention. They are not only telling the secret of who you are, but more often than not of the mystery of where you have come from and are summoning you to where you should go next. Frederick Buechner

As a storeowner tacked a sign above his door, 'Puppies for Sale,' a little boy appeared and asked. "How much are you going to sell those puppies for?"

The store owner replied 50$ eachThe little boy reached into his pocket and pulled out some change. "

I have $2.37 can I have a look at them ?The storeowner smiled and whistled. Out of a kennel came Lady, followed by her five balls of four-legged fur. One puppy limped and lagged considerably. "What's Wrong with that little dog?’ The boy asked.

The storeowner explained that the puppy was born without a hip socket, and the vet told him that the puppy would limp for the rest of its life. The little boy's face lit,

"That’s the puppy I want to buy”

The storeowner replied, "No, you don't. If you really want him, I'll give him to you." The little boy did not hide his annoyance. "I don't want you to give him to me. He's worth every penny. I would like to give you $2.37 now, and 50 cents every month until he's paid for." Taken aback, the storeowner minced no words, "Young man, this puppy is never going to be able to run, jump or play like other puppies!"



The boy reached down and rolled up his pant leg, to reveal a badly twisted, crippled left leg supported by a bulky metal brace. He looked up at the storeowner, "Well, I don't run so well myself, and the little puppy will need someone who understands."

We all see "crippled" parts of ourselves that sadden, discourage, infuriate, embarrass or even repulse us. We know they are there. Some are of our own making. Most are not. And we do our best to wish or will or pray them away.



Our prayers are fueled by a world that sees imperfection as an indictment. And we pass judgment on our value, based upon that measurement: appearance, achievement and affluence. Maybe it's about our illusion of control. With all of our fixing and renovating, look what we have to show for ourselves! "You can have the life you DESERVE to live," an ad for a local plastic surgeon promises. I have nothing against whiter teeth or a tighter backside. However, I'm not so sure that'll take care of what troubles me.



The problem is this: As long as I am bent on fixing, repairing and renovating in order to make myself more presentable or lovable or acceptable, I am postponing the ability to receive any gifts (from you or from God) in the present moment. One young volunteer, working at L'Arche, Jean Vanier's homes for seriously handicapped adults, wrote of the residents, "They never ask what degree do you have, what university did you attend. They only ask, 'Do you love me?' In the end, isn't that what matters?"



Indeed. Here's the truth: We have the ability to receive, to be loved, to know our value, only from a place of vulnerability. Because in our nakedness, our "crippledness," our brokenness and our vulnerability we have no power, no leverage, nothing to bargain with. Our identity is not dependent upon becoming somebody, impressing somebody, or removing all imperfection. We can be, literally, BE, at home in our own skin, damaged hip socket and all.

Granted, there are flawed and weak parts that could change.

But we can't change anything until we can love it.

We can't love anything until we can know it.

We can't know anything until we can embrace it.

And we touch wholeness at that place of vulnerability.



There we are human. There we are sons and daughters of God.

 There we hear God speak our name. The very image of God is imbedded in this fragile nature, in its very breakability. It is in that vulnerability where we find exquisite beauty -- compassion, tender heartedness, mercy, forgiveness, gentleness, openness, kindness, empathy, listening, understanding and hospitality.

The alternative? To protect ourselves from all manner of breakability (and "crippledness") and to seal off our hearts and souls with Teflon. There will be no pain or brokenness. And there will be no love.