Biblical brokenness.

"Biblical brokenness is not an identity but a posture" Nathan Gernetzky from his book God, Boy, Ocean.

This so echoes in my heart, it's only when you recognise your failings, sinfulness, and brokenness and the justice that should have been your portion of your life, and the absolute grace and mercy that Jesus worked for you on the cross, according to the requirement of the law you were doomed, but God....

Nathan goes on to say "This kind of brokenness is about us learning to lean into God and refusing to give into self pity. Its the daily clinging to God's steadfast never give up love. It's the posture of dependency and knowing your own limitations. Its the feasting on Gods table of truth and the expectant hope that all things would be made new. Brokenness is the posture of living for the audience of one".

I strongly recommend you get the book, its real, authentic and emotional, but also practical.

We should live for the audience of one, but we are not meant to live or heal alone, its always together in community.

Just like the discipleship camps I attended last year, where we as men spoke of our struggles, hopes, dreams and faith, encouraged each other and made much of Jesus, his word and what it means to be a follower of Him, and to live in His Kingdom, to seek it and His righteousness. Had a blessed time, experienced the sweet and powerful presence of Jesus, spent time practicing the spiritual disciplines in a practical ways.

Not only do we do this on camp but via a men's meeting every week (online currently). We do a check in and hold each other accountable.  The word encourage us to confess to each other for healing. 
 The saying is confess to God for forgiveness and to each other for healing.


Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Oh to Be Chosen

 I don’t consider myself religious anymore. At least, not in the way people might expect. There was a time when belief felt structured, defined—something I either fit into or drifted away from. And in many ways, I did drift. I questioned, I pulled back, I let go of things that no longer felt true to me. But somewhere along the way—quietly, unexpectedly—something else found me. Not rules. Not obligation. Not pressure to become someone else. But a sense… that I am already chosen. And I know how that sounds, especially to those who’ve perhaps taken a step back from me over time. Maybe it feels like I’ve changed in ways that are hard to understand. Maybe it feels like distance was necessary. But the truth is, this hasn’t been about becoming more distant from myself. It’s been the opposite. It’s been about coming home. --- Oh to be chosen— not polished, not rehearsed, not softened at the edges to fit another’s comfort, but as I am in the quiet, unguarded truth of myself. To be seen beyo...
Read more

Inherited Shame

When I look back on my life, it is often with a sense of shame. A quiet, persistent feeling that no matter when, where, or who—it was always me. I was the common denominator. I was the one to blame. Inspired by a song of the Pet Shop Boys it's a sin. Music often speaks deeply to one's soul,  reflecting truths and emotions that remain buried in the subconscious until you recognise yourself within the lyrics. Another song that inspired this is Losing my religion by R.E.M.  Anthropology is the study of humans—how we live, think, evolve, and relate to each other across time and cultures. Music is one of form of art (also poetry and visual arts, that transcends across the human experience bringing emotional weight to otherwise plain lives. For a long time, I understood my life through that lens. Especially when I realised I was queer. I never chose this—this attraction to men. And it felt, for years, like something that set my life on a harder path than it needed to be. I imagined ...
Read more

On Being: Not Enough (And Learning Otherwise

 Some days it comes quietly. Not with accusation or drama—just a low, persistent whisper that settles somewhere in the background of my mind: You haven’t really done much. It’s a strange thought, because I know it isn’t true. If I take a moment to look back, I can see the shape of a life that has been anything but empty. I have been a father. A husband. A provider. I have led, I have mentored, I have stood in the gap for others when it mattered. I have shown up. And yet, the feeling lingers. I’ve come to realise that this voice doesn’t deal in facts. It measures something far less tangible—something closer to expectation than reality. Perhaps it’s the distance between who I once imagined I would become and who I see when I look at myself now. Not disappointment, exactly. Just… a quiet questioning. But if I’m honest, there is another truth that sits alongside that voice—one that is easier to overlook because it doesn’t announce itself as loudly. I didn’t live my life on the surface....
Read more