I wrote this post a while back and posted it, but immediately felt to take it down and keep it in my drafts. At the time, I was pondering the concept of “a broken heart and a contrite spirit.” I’ve had many thoughts about this phrase over the years, but the Lord showed me something else.
He brought to my mind the image of a paper heart being torn into two halves. It was torn in a dimly lit room over a smooth, round table top. Then, he tore off smaller pieces that dropped onto the table. Each tear took me back to separate experiences that caused me a great deal of sorrow and grief. I relived them, and seeing all of those pieces there on the table would have been a terrible end to the vision had it ended there.
But then, a light penetrated the room from above the table. It was soft, but intense, and warm. It illuminated the table and the torn pieces of the heart, and I felt an inexpressible love and warmth within my own heart, too.
I understood that, in the past, had I not willingly allowed the Lord to tear my heart into pieces, I would not have been able to endure the intensity of that light. The resulting increased surface area made my heart not just able to bear his light and love, but to absorb it, and drink it in, and savor it—and that realization caused me to feel an immense amount of gratitude for all of the painful experiences that I had been through. Had I not yielded to those experiences, it would have been impossible for me to endure the light and love he was sending at that moment.
People think that God mends hearts, and I suppose that in some way it feels as though he does. But in reality, he tears your heart, and it is so unbelievably painful. He does this so that you can better receive the light and love that he so mercifully and abundantly pours out to you. It comes so privately and intimately. It is unspeakable. It comes in moments where anyone else who might be observing the situation you are in will only see the pieces of your heart on the table, if they see anything at all. But it is that greater surface area of your broken heart—that greater capacity to take up his wisdom and love into your heart—that makes that wonderous experience possible.