Light Through the Cracks : Finding Beauty in Brokenness

The hardest I’ve ever cried

was the first time I stopped trying to hide

it. I didn’t wipe the tears fast enough,

didn’t swallow the sobs,

didn’t pretend I was fine.

I just let the pieces fall—

loud, messy, ungraceful—

right there in front of my sister in faith,

on a flickering video call that somehow

became sacred ground.

Every wall I’d built came crashing down,

and I braced for the shame.

Instead she leaned closer to the screen,

eyes shining with something gentle and

fierce, and whispered,

“This… this is holy.”

Holy.

Not the polished version of me.

Not the smiling, strong, “I’ve-got-it-

together” girl.

The broken one.

The one trembling with truth.

She called that holy.

In that moment I started to believe

that broken can be beautiful

when it’s finally, fully held by love.

I’m still learning that surrender doesn’t

look like quiet hands folded in peace. It

sounds like sobbing that shakes the bed. It

feels like relief rushing in where control used

to live.

Tonight I carried every sharp edge I’d clutched

for years and laid them—bleeding,

exhausted—at His feet.

I had no words left,

only tears and a whisper:

“Take it all. I can’t fix this anymore.”

Then she looked at me with soft eyes and said,

“You are so beautiful right now.”

Not despite the tears—

because of them.

Because the cracks were letting the real

me shine through,

raw, surrendered,

finally resting in the Hands

that know how to remake me.

Because Love was holding what I couldn’t.

Because for the first time

I was being remade

right in front of someone who wasn’t afraid of the mess.

I am still broken.

But tonight I am also luminous.

And that feels like the beginning

of becoming whole.

Psalm 34:18

“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted

and saves those who are crushed in spirit.”

He doesn’t wait for us to clean up the

shards.He steps into them,

calls them holy, and fills every fracture

with gold. If you are mourning, anxious, or

carrying pain you can’t name, may you

find the courage to let it fall apart in front

of someone who will lean in and say,

“This is holy.”

Because your brokenness is not the end

of the story, it’s the doorway

where Love begins to make you

whole.

Thank you for reading .Go gently,

luminous one. Love’s already moving

through your cracks.