You Might Break

When you have plenty of people to talk to, but not enough time with any one of them to really get into it, you might break.

When old lies are unintentionally triggered in your mind by well-meaning folks, and you know you need to take responsibility for your own triggers while fighting to ignore the lies that are shouting at you again, you might break.

When it seems as though a new piece of bad news — the devastating, life-altering kind — comes in seemingly everyday from yet another quarter, you might break.

When the only place you feel at home is at work, you might break.

When things are left unsaid, because it’s never the right time, the right place, or the right motivation, you might break.

When you cannot say what you really want to say, because the only person it would serve is yourself, you might break.

When eyes are on you, desiring your input, advice, or insight, and you feel obligated to have a ready answer, struggling to remember to ask for some time to think it over, so instead you speak without thinking and have to backtrack — AGAIN — you might break.

When you can’t tell the difference between nagging mother and rightful accountability with your older teens, and you are constantly worried that no matter what you are doing, it’s the wrong thing, you might break.

When you ache so much, with no relief in sight, and wonder where this “light and easy yoke” Jesus promised went, you might break.

And yet, somehow, you just keep moving anyway.

“A bruised reed he will not break,
and a smoldering wick he will not snuff out,
till he has brought justice to victory.”

Matthew 12:20 (NIV)

When your only hope is in Christ alone, you might break. But probably not.