The place we are
When I came out of mental illness, I described myself as ‘Broken’.
This seemed to me to be a terrible state to find myself in.
I wanted to be made whole again. I wanted to be fully well.
I had a belief that I needed to be a whole person before I could function.
Recently, I have had to face the fact that my brokenness was part of the price that I paid.
I was afflicted with mental illness. I challenged this illness, and I defeated it.
But I paid a price. Along the way, parts of me were damaged.
I feel like a soldier who returns from War. He won the War, but he knows that he is broken.
Being broken is not pleasant. But it is the way that I am.
Being broken feels similar to grief.
I am trying to come to terms with it.
If I turn to God, then I know that God can use anyone, and hopefully, He can still use me in my brokenness.
The second place I turn to is Art. If I see a Mosaic, then I think,..that is like me, and perhaps a beautiful picture can be made from these broken pieces.
Perhaps one day God will heal me, but in the meantime I will try to live with my brokenness.