‘Tis the season for broken hearts.

It’s always the season.

Somewhere in the world, a heart is breaking. In this very moment, someone has just been dumped, someone is struggling to come to terms with the death of a loved one, someone is contemplating what it would be like to just end it all.

Even as I am writing this, my own heart is breaking.

Life in this imperfect world seems to be a constant cycle of bandaging our wounds. Some wear the pain on their sleeves. Others try very hard but fail miserably to conceal the depth of their disarray.

It makes me sad and angry all at once. What will make the pain go away?

Nothing, apparently. Nothing can take the pain away because of the flesh we’re housed in. We cannot run away from our fallen nature as long as our feet roam this earth.

Look up. No, higher. Look heavenward.

But there is a way to look past it to see something more beautiful.

Look up. No, higher. Look heavenward.

As I try to look past the pieces of my heart being discarded all around me, all I see are these eyes looking back into mine, burning with love and jealousy.

Our God is a jealous God. He fought hard to win the reality that we might be together with Him forever. He sees how I’ve chosen to look at my problems, and that instead of seeing all that He has given me, I’ve zeroed in on what I think I lack.

So many times I find myself on the edge of a death of some sort; maybe I choose to wither away in isolation, maybe I’m on the brink of giving up my faith.

Each time he saves my life. He relentlessly chases my heart with a fiery love.

Who would want the trouble of me; to go through all the hassle to put me back together only to have me fall apart again?

But Shame tells me otherwise – that I am not worthy of such a love. Who would want someone who’s been discarded? Who wants such second-hand goods?

Who would want the trouble of me; to go through all the hassle to put me back together only to have me fall apart again?

Jesus. Jesus does. To the point that He bore broken bones, the scouring of his skin, and thorns piercing into His brow. Just so I could be near Him.

Shame tugs on my chin sharply, telling me to look at him instead. But I can’t seem to break away from those fiery eyes – I’m drawn to the love within. The promise of redemption.

As long as we exist in this world, we are always going to be at war. If it’s not a war between our flesh and our spirit, it’s us against principalities, powers, rulers of the darkness of this world and spiritual wickedness in high places (Ephesians 6:12).

But the second Jesus breathed “it is finished“, the path to heaven – where we can bask in God’s glory forever with no pain or suffering – was paved with mercy. This very path is where I will find myself falling over time and time again.

The moment He yielded His spirit, the veil tore (Matthew 27:50-51), making way for us to be in His presence freely.

Knowing this affects me; I cannot remain unchanged and unmoved that someone would desire my heart so much.

He did all that so knowing He wasn’t getting a very good bargain; He knows that my heart will never be complete on its own. But the beauty of the Cross is the fact that His love makes all things new; even our bruised and battered hearts.

Don’t give up because He hasn’t. He loves you, He’s on your side, He’s jealous over you, He chose you and He knows you.

You’re His beloved bride. And He’s coming for you.