When Broken Brings Beauty


There’s been broken places.

I’ve wondered if others have heard the places where my soul has seemingly cracked under the weight. The creaking, cracking and breaking. Surely, the echoes were heard.

But masked by brave smiles, it’s been the whispers that have been louder.

I’ve learned that whispers of gratefulness are louder than the shattering of any soul.

the whispers of gratefulness


Younger self said, “Not being broken is a sign of strength.”
Older self knows He gathers the broken.

Every broken place I’ve not been able to keep together on my own has become a sacred mess where He’s restored my soul.

I’ve idolized perfection, but time has taught me to yearn for his presence. His presence permeates every broken place.

So comes this time to call it “gratefully broken.” I’ve given thanks for every shattered dream, misguided hope, circumstances beyond my control. Through gritted teeth, I’ve grinded out words of thanksgiving. With clenched fists, I’ve offered praise.

The temptation has been to hide, become unavailable, surround my heart with barb-wired fences that no one wants to work through. If only I didn’t feel things so deeply, I’ve thought.
Then the thought comes that through the deepness of this heart will come an abundance of His presence.

“For you cast me into the deep, into the heart of the seas, and the flood surrounded me; all your waves and your billows passed over me.” (Jonah 2:4)

May the waves of his presence be better than the stillness of safety.

The fists unclench, the teeth no longer grind together, and the thanksgiving changes an aching heart.

Is it okay to say that I’ve felt like the seed tossed into the ground by the hand of the sower, feeling alone, buried, unnoticed? And then came the broken. The splits in my soul.
When I thought there was no more ache to be had, it came. So small at first. Barely noticeable.

But new life.

Like the tender shoot of new growth from the splitting seed. Fragile, but very much alive.
In the broken places have come the greatest growth, the greatest gifts, and new life.
So I’ve learned to give thanks. Gratefulness accompanies the broken.
This giving thanks in all things has been where it all started. A life changed, a miracle happened in the thanksgiving. In the praise for promises not yet fulfilled, came the miracle.

Nothing too scattered, nothing too shattered that He will not gather and give new life.

I’ve had to whisper it to my own soul.

You’re not a leftover.

You’re not forgotten.

You serve a God who gathers the broken pieces.

Mentioned every time in the miracle of the bread and the loaves is that they gathered the fragments, the broken. Commanded by Jesus himself, they gathered what no one wanted.
But He does. How He longs for the broken, that they might be made whole and new.

The first sign of new life emerging is always a breaking. To everyone waiting for new life, there must first be a breaking of where you once lived. When the waters break, then new life is ready. And though the babe doesnt know it yet, what’s about to be is better than where he’s been.

Dear broken, you didn’t break me at all.
And I’m grateful for the new life.


  1. Missy Gros says:

    Love love!! Not familiar with blogs – how do I connect to receive all???
    Love you Jamie! Amazing beautiful real woman of God, wife, mother and friend!!!❤️

    • Thank you! The best way to connect is to like my Facebook page that I set up with blog posts. You can also subscribe to my blog via email. There’s a link on the side of the blog that will let you do that. Thank you so much for following:)


    Awesome word!

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