The Bruised Reed

"A bruised reed He will not break, And a dimly burning wick He will not extinguish; He will faithfully bring forth justice."

I heard this verse spoken by a woman on the brink of destruction. Death even. She uttered it in desperation to God- that He would sustain her as she struggled to find the will to live. 

That made my soul heavy. 

That was awhile ago. I looked back on that verse with uneasiness. It reminded me of her. Of the real struggles that face us-that threaten to overtake us. 

I didn't expect the verse to welcome me this particular morning. The words lept off the page and twirled around me. They didn't offer the expected comfort. They offered condemnation. 

Psalm 1 says I should be like "...a tree firmly planted by streams of water...and its leaf does not wither..."

I should be an "...oak of righteousness..." says Isaiah 61.

Not "...like the surf of the sea, driven and tossed by the wind." Dear James (1).

I was the opposite of 2 Corinthians - crushed, despairing, feeling nearly destroyed. 

Bruised. Nearly crushed. 

Slowly, like a warm embrace, came the words, "...He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds..." (Psalm 147:3)

I faltered again. In this long marathon I stumbled and fell. It felt good to lie, curled and still. To rest. 

As these thoughts filled my mind this morning, my eye came to rest just a few short verses past the bruised reed:

I am the Lord, I have called you in righteousness, I will also hold you by the hand and watch over you...

It is okay to fall. To fail. To suffer... 

I see the intimacy it brings with the One who will not rest until He has finished the good work He has begun in me.

This song found its way to me. That was a sweet blessing: