Broken...

Broken.  It's all broken.

Broken lives.

Broken homes.

Broken relationships.

Broken government.

Broken adoption process.

Broken children.

Broken cars.

Broken bodies.

Broken.

It's all broken...in Haiti.

As I lay in bed one night, watching Kervens breathe deeply, the hum of the air conditioner was lulling me to sleep.  I was trying to pray, but all I could muster were these words, "Lord, it is all so broken.  Everything.  It seems like evil is winning over here in Haiti.  What do you say about all this, Lord?"

Silence.

More silence.

I repeated my request.  "What do you say about all this brokenness, Lord?"

Silence.

I looked up onto the ceiling above me.  There, as clear as day, was the shadow of a cross...except the horizontal bar going across was slightly broken, slanted at an angle.

The answer to my question pierced my heart..."That is why I came.  For the broken."

That's it?  That is the answer?  There must be more!

Again.  "That is why I came.  For the broken."

Funny thing is... I wanted more.  I wanted a "better" answer.  What could possibly be better than someone's sacrificial death that defeated evil for all of eternity?  How could I possibly want more?

But I did.  I realized just then what little value I place on the cross of Jesus Christ.  Such little value.

And then it hit me.   The brokenness is not just present in Haiti.  We are broken here in America.  Horribly broken.  We just cover up our brokenness with some very "pretty" things.

The answer still remains.  "That is why I came.  For the broken."

I am trying to accept that this is enough.  For me.  For Haiti.