Walking along the seashore one day,
I glanced at the shells that littered my way.
They all were once wrappers, now empty homes.
Glistened they shined, wet with the foam.
A beautiful keepsake I was hoping to find,
To look upon fondly this moment of time.
But many the shells were dinghy and broken.
What sort of fool favored that kind of token?
Right at that minute, I felt a sharp ache.
Perhaps walking barefoot was a terrible mistake.
Bent down to retrieve the shard from my heel,
A spire from a mollusk dull with appeal.
I had stepped on its point, which broke it in two.
A mere fragment left to toss back to the blue—
But what did I notice as I turned in my hand?
A spiral of wonder, embedded with sand.
Stooped down, I rinsed the grit and the chips.
Blossoming right in my fingertips,
A rose, oh so radiant, oh so divine,
To think I nearly cast it out in the brine!
As I gazed at the treasure in awe and wonder,
The Lord spoke to me, as I started to ponder.
The wind swept past me, a chill in the air.
“Beauty in the Broken” floated down like a prayer.
My darling, I wish you’d only embrace
The beauty you get with grace upon grace.
The broken isn’t ugly. Can you only see?
A mosaic of life, My artistry.
The world wants perfection—flawless and whole
The ‘measuring-up’ is hard on the soul.
A stumble, a past, a struggle, a wart
No matter the fault, they always fall short.
How many people have you cast aside
Without taking time to see what’s inside?
For isn’t a shell just like a face?
Protecting the soul inside of its case
You study the outer. You judge and discard.
Daughter, take time to love and regard.
And not only them what about you?
Throwing away what I plan to use?
Those bumps in the road are there for a reason
Don’t wish them away. It’s only a season.
The plans that I have are to prosper not to harm.
Don’t be quick to give up or sound the alarm.
“Broken is Beautiful.” Let that sink in!
Whether suffering of life or blemishes on skin.
Accept all the brokenness. Child, you are adored—
By Jesus Christ your Heavenly Lord!
For My Son shines through all of the cracks
His Glory holds together whatever you lack
Alone you are weak, but with Jesus you’re strong.
That was My plan, child, all along.
Right then the cold wind ceased to blow
I gasped as the tears started to flow
Not out of sadness, but out of praise
Free from perfection—I stood amazed!
Broken is beautiful when nailed to a tree.
Broken is beautiful when He died for me
When He rose from the dead, and conquered the grave
No longer His people are bound and enslaved
I now see the beauty in gashes and tears
In trials, in scars that we ought to share
By opening up and speaking our pain
The shame melts away, as do the chains.
And like Light through the cracks, Truth is revealed
That Jesus is Savior; He is our Shield.
May I never leave this story unspoken
How God whispered “Beauty in the Broken.”
-Kelly M. Vaughan