Why Am I So Broken?

I recently sat holding someone I love as he wept in my arms. His sobs were heavy, desperate, aching with a pain too deep for words. Through broken cries, he kept repeating the same question: 

“Why am I so broken? Why? It hurts so bad.”

Oh, how I wanted to cry out the answer. I wanted to wrap his pain in the truth that saved me — but this was someone who had pushed hard against Jesus, resistant to anything that sounded like faith. So, I held my tongue, not wanting to push him further away. I held him instead. I let him break in my arms while I silently whispered prayers over him: 

“Jesus, help him to call out to You. Jesus, touch his heart. Lord, please take this pain and breathe life where it hurts most.”

As he cried, something in me broke open, too — because I knew this pain. I’d lived it. I had once asked those same questions, felt those same wounds. I’d been there — in the pit of it — feeling utterly destroyed, used up, and discarded like I didn’t matter. I remembered what it was like to feel abandoned by people who were supposed to love me, to be forsaken by those I had trusted the most. I remembered the numbness I invited in just to survive.

I remember making “I don’t care” my mantra, repeating it to myself until I almost believed it. But deep down, I did care — I just didn’t know how to carry the weight of all that pain. So I buried it. Pushed it down. Distracted myself with whatever I could so I didn’t have to feel the ache of my own heart. Oh yes, I remember.

And now here I was, holding someone I love, hearing the same cries echo from his soul. 

“Why am I so broken?” 

So many things rushed to the surface. So much I wanted to say. But more than anything, I wanted him to feel loved — not preached at, not fixed in that moment, just loved.

Still, deep inside, I was aching to say this:

That question you keep asking... it can become a prayer. A real one. A raw, desperate, honest prayer. Just like I once prayed: 

“Jesus, I am so broken. Help me. Please help me. I can't live like this anymore. Please help me. Give me a reason to live.”

That question — “Why am I so broken?” — can be the beginning of surrender. And surrender is the doorway to healing. It’s the moment the darkness starts to crack and the light begins to pour in. Jesus is not afraid of the broken places — those are the very places He longs to touch first. He’s the only one who took all my shattered pieces and gently, lovingly, put me back together — not just how I was, but better than before.

You don’t have to hide your pain from Him. You don’t have to carry it alone. There is no addiction too strong, no shame too deep, no failure too big for Him to redeem. Every disappointment, every tear — He sees it all. And He cares more than you know.

The truth is, life will still come with trials. Storms will still rage. But when your heart is anchored in the love of the One who created you, the storms won’t destroy you. When your foundation is built on Jesus, you can face anything — not because you’re strong, but because He is.

To the one I held — I love you with all my heart. And more importantly, He loves you with a love that never fails. Even when you don’t believe it. Even when you can’t feel it. Even when you're crying out, “Why am I so broken?”

He is there. 

And He is the answer.

with love, vicky