Broken Hearted

I had never before seen The Heart Skit when our campus minister Neal gave us the thirty second plotline.  Three or four of us volunteered to be the protagonist, but Jessica chose me.  I kept quiet while they discussed who would be the man to break my heart.  They unanimously decided on Neal.  After making sure no one else wanted the part, Neal agreed.  Due to time constraints, the final cast was not able to practice together.

That night, the magnitude of the skit hit me.
1. I was going to have my heart broken on stage in a silent skit.  Can you say: FACIAL EXPRESSIONS?
2. I was going to have to flirt with my married campus minister.

I prayed for emotional strength and thought about boundaries.

During church the following morning, Neal and I took opposite sides of the stage.  In my hands I held a paper heart.  Neal's object was to romance me until I gave him my heart.  We made eye contact and showed embarrassment.  He waved; I giggled.  He took a deep breath and stepped closer to me.  I looked away and made the same move.  He put his arm around me; I leaned into him.  He reached out for my heart, and I pulled away.  He hugged me, I hesitated before surrendering the heart.  We both smiled from ear to ear.  He took my hand and paraded me around.  He pointed into the distance, I looked, and he planted a kiss on my cheek.  I blushed.

Was NOT expecting that.

From the side of the stage came another girl.  His attention shifted.  I tried to pull him back but he pulled away.  From behind, I wrapped both of my arms around his waist; he dragged me across the stage.  Using his foot, he pushed me off.  I stumbled backwards, regained my balance, and ran at him, jumping for my heart.  He pointed to the heart, pointed to me, pointed back to the heart, and got a devious look.

He took his hand off the other girl long enough to rip my heart to pieces and throw them on the ground.

I fell to the ground with my broken heart.

A friend walked by, picked up a piece of my heart, looked at it, dropped it, stomped on it, and walked away.

Two friends came and tried to help me piece it together.  When they let go, my heart fell apart again.

I sat on my knees trying to put my heart back together like a puzzle.  It didn't work.

Brett knelt at my side.  He put one hand on my back and a Bible in my lap.  His eyes dripping compassion, he pointed up, crossed his arms over his chest, and pointed to me.  I turned away.  He tapped me and pointed to the Bible.  I pushed him away.

Alone I sat, cupping the pieces of my heart to my chest.  It wasn't working.  I sat them down and turned my interest to the Bible Brett gave me.  I hesitated, closed the broken heart into the Bible, sat back, and prayed.  I waited until the camera flashes stopped.  I opened the Bible and tucked in the Psalms was a brand new heart!

Praise the LORD! For it is good to sing praises to our God; for it is pleasant, and a song of praise is fitting...He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds. Psalm 147:1, 3

I love the image of being healed in Christ represented in this skit.  But I think it's oversimplified. 

Heart breaks are very real; being healed is a long, slow, painful process.  I've been there.  Five times last week and my share of times in weeks and months previous.

Our hearts are not the only ones that get broken.  We are often cast in Neal's role doing the heart breaking every time something we find more attractive or interesting comes along.  God's heart breaks every time we turn away from Him.

Every time, ladies, we're infatuated with a guy rather than with Him.
Every time we put our focus in something else.
Every time we doubt, fail to trust, are too hard on ourselves.
Every time we cry, God's tears outnumber ours.

Take a moment right now and tell Him how much you love Him.  Let Him love you back.  Let Him heal your heart.

With love,
<>< Katie

Hurt

If I could summarize this past week in one word I'd say: hurt.

In the last few days I've been bizarrely injured multiple times.  With a few of them I've had to seriously contemplate if professional medical attention would have been inappropriate.  It seemed every time I put my First Aid kit away it needs to come out again a few hours later.  I've always been the "girl with the Band-Aids" and now I'm "the girl who needs the Band-Aids."  It's annoying, but what is more annoying is that not all hurts are physical.

Emotional wounds are harder to treat.  Neosporin and Band-Aids don't cover it (no pun intended).  You think they're healing and suddenly you're gushing tears again.

At (adult) Sunday School I shared the prayer request that I keep getting hurt physically and emotionally, and I am sick of reaching for Band-Aids.

Our Sunday School teacher Matt smiled.  He said he could write his own name next to that request every day.  He said many others could do the same.

When Matt prayed, he thanked God for the rain pounding on the roof.  He said it was healing rain sent to cleanse and heal those of us who have hurts like I mentioned.  Later, he asked God to relieve our (my) physical, emotional, and spiritual hurts.

My first thought was defensive.  "I didn't say I was hurt spiritually."  As Matt prayed, God prodded gently.

"Yes, you are."

I can put a Band-Aid over my scratches to cover them up.  I don't have to see their nastiness and neither does anyone else.  Why am I still putting man's Band-Aid over God's band-aid (a scab)?

Emotional wounds don't need Band-Aids; they're covered in a different way.  They're hidden deep within me as if that'll make them go away.  The other day Luci said, "Katie, you're like a box.  I keep trying to open you, and I can't."  That hurt.  But it was true.

Is God saying that to me too?  "Katie, I'm here ready to open you, ready to heal you.  I'm ready and you won't let Me."

Just like physical wounds need to be cleaned, so do emotional and, more importantly, spiritual wounds.  Boy, does it hurt!  But it's vital.

<>< Katie

"More than that, we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame because God's love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us." Romans 5:3-5