Quotes about Brokenness

Here is invariably a spiritual fact: Our spirit is released according to the degree of our brokenness.

Unhealed wounds open us up to habitual sin against God and others.

Even my close friend whom I trusted, the one who shared my bread, has lifted up his heel against me.

Every man carries a wound. I have never met a man without one. No matter how good your life may have seemed to you, you live in a broken world full of broken people.

I didn't want to live in a broken world or a broken me. I wasn't trying to weasel out of anything, I just wasn't in the mood to be on earth that night.

It's music that can only come from particular instruments, broken in particular ways, and yielded with particular humility. I also believe it brings God glory in a way that is completely unique on earth or in the heavens. And that's a thought that keeps me going, too.

We interpret Jesus through our brokenness. A painful truth, but also a hopeful truth. Maybe we can open up the doors and windows we didn't know we closed.

This is the residue of sin on planet earth. Things are broken. People are hurting. The night is here. Darkness is upon us. Yet shining in the night is a Savior, and He has come to shine on you.

It was not the sorrow of the world that broke the heart of Christ, but its wickedness. He was equal to its sorrow ... He began by being the world's healer. But what broke him was its sin.

In short order, here are the top ten symptoms of emotionally unhealthy spirituality: Using God to run from God Ignoring anger, sadness, and fear Dying to the wrong things Denying the impact of the past on the present Dividing life into "secular" and "sacred" compartments Doing for God instead of being with God Spiritualizing away conflict Covering over brokenness, weakness, and failure Living without limits Judging other people's spiritual journey

The present world is good, but broken and in any case incomplete; art of all kinds enables us to understand that paradox in its many dimensions. But the present world is also designed for something which has not yet happened. It is like a violin waiting to be played: beautiful to look at, graceful to hold—and yet if you'd never heard one in the hands of a musician, you wouldn't believe the new dimensions of beauty yet to be revealed.

My tent is destroyed, and all its ropes are snapped. My sons have departed from me and are no more. I have no one left to pitch my tent or set up my curtains.