HOLY SATURDAY REFLECTION: HIS PIECES FOR MY BROKEN ONES

I’ve thought a lot about brokenness this year.

Calling myself “broken” is something someone close to me has taken great exception to in our conversations. “I’m not broken,” she’s said more than once. “I’m whole just the way I am.” Her pushback gives me pause, causing me to reconsider the language I use. Still, even after deep reflection, I respond with a quiet resolve: “Well, I am broken.”

Truth is, my life is far from the ideal I hoped for, worked for, longed for. Despite my best efforts—despite a life goal of “no regrets”—my life is filled with broken places. She and I have gone back and forth about this. I see her living in denial of her pain. She sees me as devaluing myself, needing something or someone outside of myself to heal, to complete me. For now, we’ve agreed to disagree, coming to a respectful impasse.

Broken and Mending

I suppose my language has been shaped by years of repeating the words of “The Sending” at Vanguard Church, words which include:

“I am broken and mending and called by the Lord…”

Yes, I am broken. I carry a whole bag of broken pieces in my life. The sorrows of loss, rejection, criticism, abandonment, futility, betrayal, and disappointment weigh heavy in that bag. What’s more, that bag also contains shards from my own sin—anger, unforgiveness, pride, selfishness, envy, fear. I can deny these, ignore them, explain them away. Or I can be honest and admit they’re there.

I used to think all this brokenness meant something was wrong with me, and it does mean that, but it also means more. This year, spurred on by conversations with my dear one who doesn’t yet believe in Christ, I’m realizing in a new that my brokenness is where Jesus meets me most. This Holy Saturday, I sit in the quiet and reflect on the beauty that can rise from broken places.

Recognizing Our Need for Healing

Truth is, I need a mending. We all do. And this—this!—is why Jesus came.

Where I am imperfect and fractured, He is perfect. Holy. Sinless. Without all the shards of wrongdoing.

And yet, in His wholeness, He allowed Himself to be broken—for us.

“The Lord Jesus on the same night in which He was betrayed took bread: and when He had given thanks, He broke it and said, ‘Take, eat; this is My body which is broken for you.’” (1 Corinthians 11:23-24, KJV/NKJV)

And here’s what is so stunning: His brokenness is entirely different from ours. His pieces are perfect, and He freely, willingly, selflessly offers them to us:

Here, a piece of My love. There, a piece of My grace, of My mercy, of My forgiveness. And over here—My kindness, My chesed, My joy, My peace.

What an offering! What a gift, over and over again!

The Invitation to Heal

As I think about this, I begin to realize that, in this, our brokenness isn’t a failure to hide; it is an invitation to heal. On this Holy Saturday, I’m remembering how the broken body of Jesus speaks to every shattered piece of my life.

Jesus didn’t fall apart. He offered Himself up. Deliberately. Thoughtfully. Intentionally. He selflessly gave Himself for our healing to happen and for our wholeness to be possible. Scripture says,

“He was wounded for our transgressions. He was bruised for our iniquities; the chastisement for our peace was upon Him. And by His stripes we are healed.” (Isaiah 53:5, NKJV)

As we come to Jesus with our brokenness—our shreds and shards—He looks at each one and says:

I died for that piece. Yes, I died for that broken piece, too. And yes, even for that broken piece of yours, I died.

When we recognize His gift, the miracle begins. As we hand Him our broken pieces, one by one, He exchanges them for His perfect ones:  Here, instead of your shame: My grace. Here, instead of your grief: My joy. Here, instead of your anger: My peace. Here, instead of your unforgiveness: My forgiveness.

Thing is, because Jesus is perfect, even the broken pieces of His body fit perfectly into our broken spaces. His broken body, received by faith, is our restoration.

This is what we remember in communion:

“As they were eating, Jesus took some bread and blessed it. Then He broke it into pieces and gave it to the disciples, saying, ‘Take this and eat it, for this is My body.’” (Matthew 26:26, NLT) “He took some bread and gave thanks to God for it. Then He broke it in pieces and gave it to the disciples, saying, ‘This is My body, which is given for you. Do this in remembrance of Me.’” (Luke 22:19, NLT)

Every communion, every bite of the broken bread, every whispered prayer of confession and repentance, is a reminder:  His broken pieces for ours.

Oh praise God! “By His wounds you are healed.” (1 Peter 2:24b, NLT)

Less of Me and More of Jesus

Holy Saturday sits in the space between brokenness and beauty, and this is where we are invited to linger for a moment. Not rushing ahead, not brushing past the ache, not denying the painful realities of our lives, but letting them lead us straight into the arms of the One who promises:

“I will give you a new heart, and I will put a new spirit in you. I will take out your stony, stubborn heart and give you a tender, responsive heart.” (Ezekiel 36:26, NLT)

Turns out, brokenness isn’t the enemy to be avoided at all costs. It is our invitation into the deep, beautiful work of God’s redemption in our lives. It’s also something about which we can “Seek Him Speak Him,” shouting from the rooftops, sharing with those He’s entrusted to us, welcoming others into the invitation. As we meet with God, we can make Him known. 

Oh God, in our brokenness, we come to You again and again for healing. Give us every piece of Your broken body—mending us, reshaping us, restoring us—until there’s less of us and more of You. 

Amen and yes!

Be encouraged! ❤️

Tosha