Broken and Beautiful


We are reading through "Daring to Hope" by Katie Davis Majors and it has been like water to our souls. She writes about how she is learning to find God's goodness in the broken and the beautiful. Those words resonated with us deeply. Not only does that seem to sum up much of what our last year has been like, an emotional mix of broken and beautiful, but it physically describes this country of such vast extremes. A country where on one street you can find a shopping mall and McDonalds, and on another see children dressed in ratty, dirty clothes begging for spare change. Horse and ox carts mix with cars and semis on the roads. Fancy beach resorts mix with pieced-together dirt floor shantys. Many people here still live in and make a living out of the trash dumps. Children spend their days collecting bottles in the dump instead of going to school because survival is more important than education. Extremes of broken and beautiful.

The desire of our hearts, for this wild, faith-stretching journey that we find ourselves on, is that the Lord would continue to show us where and how he wants us to help here in Nicaragua. Not to sweep in and try to fix and change, because that would be impossible anyway, but to just walk alongside the broken and the hurting. To share in their burdens. To share of this hope that we have in the One who shows up and changes lives. To expect that the Lord will bring beauty to the broken and barren places. 

It’s a strange thing, unnatural really, to look out at the brier patch and hope for flowers, to see life’s thorn bushes and wait for the growth of a lush pine tree instead, to name the mountain ‘The Lord Will Provide’ when you are surrounded by a dense, bare-branched thicket. It seems almost foolish to look at the wasteland and believe for streams and fertility and abundance.

Prisoners of hope are those who look at a stump and expect a shoot, look at the barren desert and expect a might oak tree, look at their circumstances and expect Jesus.
— Katie Davis Majors