by Tini Tadeo-Castillo
I have always thought of the word broken as something that connotes pain, damage and defeat. It wasn’t until I had been broken and mended by the Lord that I learned to appreciate the beauty of brokenness and the victory it entails. In my journey so far, I have come to realize that we are all jars of clay, earthen vessels—humans sinful in nature. But inside all of us there is a beauty that is concealed, a treasure of costly oil that is veiled and obscured by the flask—a beautiful creation that is being held captive by the iron grip of our sinfulness, enslaved by the enemy. What we are, are jars that need to be broken to release the fragrant scent within.
Like the story of the woman who broke her alabaster jar of a very expensive perfume and poured out lavishly on Jesus’ head, I went through the same story as the jar and came to a place of being broken. It was necessary so that the beauty within me may come out flowing with fragrance. Only in reaching that place of real and genuine brokenness did I come to the end of my strength. I finally grasped that my own strength was the real enemy, and the truth was that apart from God I really had none on my own. I felt thoroughly bended, crushed and broken that my flesh stopped struggling all together. In that state of brokenness, I learned humility, repentance and submission. I learned to let go of pride and to forgive those that hurt me. I learned compassion and genuine love because I received it first. When I was broken, God’s purpose for my life became clearer and unhindered. I became less judgmental as realized how sinful, imperfect and flawed I was, too. And it was a surprise even to myself how my heart was transformed and became soft enough to break for the sin in the lives of those I loved and held dear to me. I found myself weeping for a brother who was in an adulterous relationship, how I would be burdened by a sister who struggled to submit to her husband. I found myself forgetting about revenge and wishing ill those who hurt me. I felt compassion knowing that they are imprisoned and still enslaved inside their own earthly vessels. I saw myself submitting to my husband, having no reason to fight for my way. I desired not the approval of men but the approval of my Father.
Who was this woman I had turned to, I asked myself. When I looked as the mirror, I began seeing myself as God saw me—a beautiful creation for His purpose. That beauty was revealed because I was broken. I no longer had anything to fight for because my life had been crucified with Christ. It’s only Christ within me that mattered. I finally understood how He was broken on the cross with nothing to hold on to. We were His burden and He laid down His life for us, coming only to do not His own will but the Father’s desire. So yes, I praise God for breaking me. Because only in that broken state was I able to live a life victorious over the enemy. In that broken state, I learned to get down on my knees to the point of scraping it. In that broken moment, I witnessed His signs and wonders. In being broken, I began feeling sympathy for others in bondage, fervently interceding with and for them. I learned boldness to testify for Him. I am able to feel and TOUCH Jesus’ brokenness for His Lambs, even just a fraction. I learned to PRAY earnestly that I may be used for His glory to seek and find more workers for His field.
…She broke the jar and poured the perfume on his head... ~~ Mark 14:3
I have always thought of the word broken as something that connotes pain, damage and defeat. It wasn’t until I had been broken and mended by the Lord that I learned to appreciate the beauty of brokenness and the victory it entails. In my journey so far, I have come to realize that we are all jars of clay, earthen vessels—humans sinful in nature. But inside all of us there is a beauty that is concealed, a treasure of costly oil that is veiled and obscured by the flask—a beautiful creation that is being held captive by the iron grip of our sinfulness, enslaved by the enemy. What we are, are jars that need to be broken to release the fragrant scent within.
Like the story of the woman who broke her alabaster jar of a very expensive perfume and poured out lavishly on Jesus’ head, I went through the same story as the jar and came to a place of being broken. It was necessary so that the beauty within me may come out flowing with fragrance. Only in reaching that place of real and genuine brokenness did I come to the end of my strength. I finally grasped that my own strength was the real enemy, and the truth was that apart from God I really had none on my own. I felt thoroughly bended, crushed and broken that my flesh stopped struggling all together. In that state of brokenness, I learned humility, repentance and submission. I learned to let go of pride and to forgive those that hurt me. I learned compassion and genuine love because I received it first. When I was broken, God’s purpose for my life became clearer and unhindered. I became less judgmental as realized how sinful, imperfect and flawed I was, too. And it was a surprise even to myself how my heart was transformed and became soft enough to break for the sin in the lives of those I loved and held dear to me. I found myself weeping for a brother who was in an adulterous relationship, how I would be burdened by a sister who struggled to submit to her husband. I found myself forgetting about revenge and wishing ill those who hurt me. I felt compassion knowing that they are imprisoned and still enslaved inside their own earthly vessels. I saw myself submitting to my husband, having no reason to fight for my way. I desired not the approval of men but the approval of my Father.
Who was this woman I had turned to, I asked myself. When I looked as the mirror, I began seeing myself as God saw me—a beautiful creation for His purpose. That beauty was revealed because I was broken. I no longer had anything to fight for because my life had been crucified with Christ. It’s only Christ within me that mattered. I finally understood how He was broken on the cross with nothing to hold on to. We were His burden and He laid down His life for us, coming only to do not His own will but the Father’s desire. So yes, I praise God for breaking me. Because only in that broken state was I able to live a life victorious over the enemy. In that broken state, I learned to get down on my knees to the point of scraping it. In that broken moment, I witnessed His signs and wonders. In being broken, I began feeling sympathy for others in bondage, fervently interceding with and for them. I learned boldness to testify for Him. I am able to feel and TOUCH Jesus’ brokenness for His Lambs, even just a fraction. I learned to PRAY earnestly that I may be used for His glory to seek and find more workers for His field.
…She broke the jar and poured the perfume on his head... ~~ Mark 14:3