Sometimes we feel broken
and don’t know why.
We try to fix ourselves
but nothing seems to do the trick.

No matter what we do;
no amount of tying (or untying)
seem to mend the strings
left cut and dangling.

9 thoughts on “Broken

  1. I get you. Your honesty is above all else the way you feel at the moment. Sometimes when we are broken think we do know why… sometimes I think it’s because it’s too painful to know what we know and allow ourselves to know that pain. It’s something that I’ve just just started thinking about. I bloged about it if you want to check it out.

    Somethings we don’t know… and those are so hard because we should know and don’t.

    praying for you today!


  2. I love the poem Kim!

    As a fellow Christian, if you are seriously struggling with something and not writing on behalf of another, I want to be encouraging, and point you to Ecclesiastes 7:13-14 (ESV) –

    “13 Consider the work of God:
    who can make straight what he has made crooked?
    14 In the day of prosperity be joyful, and in the day of adversity consider: God has made the one as well as the other, so that man may not find out anything that will be after him.”

    I wrote some prose in college years ago, that was brought to mind by your poem –

    “The wings of infinity and winds of sovereignty weave an intricate tapestry of life over time. Who can fathom the movements of the invisible hands that guide the loom? Hands that choose to use frayed and knotted threads? Threads of all lengths and strengths, widths and weakness? Threads of every hue, tint, shade and degree? Who can fathom? Who can fathom? Who can begin to imagine it being a thing of beauty? Something Divinity should delight in? That my own life woven in, rather than detracting, is carefully designed? Who can fathom? Not I!”

    It was partially inspired by Psalm 139:13-16 (ESV) –

    “13 For you formed my inward parts;
    you knitted me together in my mother’s womb.
    14 I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made.
    Wonderful are your works;
    my soul knows it very well.
    15 My frame was not hidden from you,
    when I was being made in secret,
    intricately woven in the depths of the earth.
    16 Your eyes saw my unformed substance;
    in your book were written, every one of them,
    the days that were formed for me,
    when as yet there was none of them.”


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