Binding up the broken

It was a sunny morning. The light was reflecting off the new snow.

As I had thousands of times before, I got out of bed, stretched and headed toward the kitchen.

But as I walked past my parent’s bedroom, I heard something that stopped me dead in my tracks.

“This will be the last Christmas we spend together as a family,” my mother told a stranger over the phone.


That was it then. My parents were getting a divorce.

I was 17.

It was Christmas Eve.

I don’t know how long I stood there, rooted to that spot and my new reality.

But I was still standing there when my mother opened the door. And when she saw the look on my face, she realized something was wrong.

We talked. I wept. She wished she could take back the last 20 minutes. I did too.

The divorce wasn’t a surprise, truthfully. I was old enough to recognize the rockiness of their relationship, the inevitablity of what my family’s future was going to be: Broken.

It was a rough Christmas for me. The rest of the family didn’t know what I had accidentally found out.

It was a heavy secret to bear. And so I turned to the one I was celebrating. My Savior. My King.

“Give me strength,” I offered in simple, humble prayer.

What I received was too powerful to be called strength. It was life.

It was the life Christ had sacrificed for me infused into my very being.

He knew my pain. He felt my heartache and fear. He carried my sorrow.

Christ healed my grief that sacred Christmas.


That was 10 years ago.

This year, I’ve needed him just as much.

It’s been a hard year for my family.

A difficult pregnancy. A car accident that left me in chronic pain. Postpartum depression. And the adjustment that comes with our darling Bellamy.

I have felt so broken so many times. But as I have learned again and again, that is one of the things Christ does best: Mend and bind up the broken.

I am stitched together with His perfect love. I am bandaged by his goodness and mercy, healed by his purity and power.

Christ is the reason for every good thing in my life and He is what gets me through the bad.

And this beautiful season, I cannot help but publically praise the Lord of Lords and King of Kings. Forever.

To those who are weary, He lives for you.

To those to weep, He loves you.

To those who are lost and without hope, He is ready to guide you.

To those who suffer, He will carry you.

I testify of the reality of our Savior, Jesus Christ.

So today, I start my 12 Days of Christmas. On this first day, my Savior has given me life — His and my own.

And because of that, I’ll keep looking for those sunny mornings. The ones lit by hope, love and faith unbroken.


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