Writing on “broken” for five minutes without editing with Lisa-Jo.
I watched the group of girls to my left, all crowded around the two tables. A few of them eating and laughing and talking. But one of them with the wiry strawberry blond hair pulled back looked away from the group. I imagined her thinking she just wanted to go home. She didn’t look mad, maybe just sad and a little broken. I wanted to hug her and tell her she should laugh. She should laugh and she should cry and she should enjoy those girls she was with.
I can’t help but think there was an enemy whispering lies to her. Telling her they didn’t like her and they must be talking about her and maybe telling her that her parents hated her and that bad grade she got this week must mean she’s stupid and she’d never amount to anything. I think the enemy is doing that a lot with these teenagers these days. I’ve listened and watched to the stories just this week and know its true. He tries to tell them their broken and to give up.
I pray they get it, really get it that maybe they are a little broken but there is hope. There is One that was broken for them and in all their mess they are valuable and loved. He has plans for them and those friends are gifts. He wants them to hear those lies and then remind the enemy of truth.
He delights in me.
He has plans for me.
No weapon formed against me shall prosper.
He wants joy for me.
Remind the enemy of that day he thought Jesus was defeated and then remind him of 3 days later when the gates of hell were busted open and he learned who really was broken and defeated.
I walked away from the strawberry blond and didn’t tell her, didn’t hug her. Didn’t even try to catch her eyes to smile at her. Maybe next time I will. And in the meantime, I’ll remind the enemy just who is broken and where he can go.