I May Be Cracked (At Least I Let the Light In)

“‘Cause you’re gonna see all my flaws 

All the fears I’m fighting

I know I may be cracked 

But I let the light in

If you want the best of me

Get to know the hurt I’m hiding

‘Cause I may be cracked

At least I let the light in.” 

--Echosmith, “Cracked”

     “I’m just not good enough for God.” 

     How many times a day does this thought run around your head? How many people have turned their faces away from God due to the shame of not being perfect? Even Genesis tells us that Adam and Eve, upon eating from the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil, felt such shame that they hid from God when He came to talk to them.

     There’s this common thought that we have to be “good enough” for God. That we can’t be used, that we aren’t even fit to worship Him, until we’re “good enough.” That we have to be perfect and be worthy, because God can’t use broken people. 

     The counter-argument is that God uses broken people plenty of times in the Bible: and that’s true. Gideon was a little nervous wreck who had to test God before He believed that God had called him (oh, how I relate!). Thomas doubted. Peter suffered from pride. David had an affair and was probably not the best dad in the world (just look at how his kids turned out!). Elijah asked God to just let him die, told God that he (Elijah) was a terrible human being who had no worth.

     And even though every example is true, it’s hard to believe sometimes because these people were in the Bible. They were warriors of God, disciples, prophets! And we’re just…

     ...us. 

     On our worst days, it’s hard to find something good about ourselves. All we can see is our cracked pieces, our shards of glass that distort the reflection we see. And that’s the case in Echosmith’s song, “Cracked,” from their latest album Lonely Generation. The singer is warning people who get close to her that she’s not perfect. She’s a mess, really, with all these broken pieces of her life around her. She has flaws, hurts, pain, trauma that she’s dealing with. But every time she says this, she asserts that “she lets the light in.”

     And that got me to thinking: if God is the light, isn’t this a beautiful metaphor for how God can work through our broken pieces?

     That’s the premise of 2 Corinthians 12 as well. Paul has lamented about this mysterious “thorn in his side” that the Lord won’t take away from him. 

     Like maybe he was depressed. Maybe he was suicidal. Maybe he was anxious. Maybe he had panic attacks. Maybe he had a physical problem: paralysis, blindness, deafness, or maybe he was missing a limb. And we know that Paul had a bad past: he was a murderer. 

     We don’t know what Paul’s thorn was, but we know what our own thorns are. We know what plagues us, what keeps us awake at night, what sends us crawling in shame. We know the parts that we never want anyone to see, because it might shatter the illusion, this pretty reflection of ourselves that we’ve cobbled together using these jagged shards of glass. 

     But in verses 9-10 of this chapter, Paul turns his weakness on its head with these words: “But [God] said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’ Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.”

     Do you see what Paul says here? God literally told Paul he didn’t have to be perfect! God said (slight paraphrase): “Yeah, it’s all chill. I got this.” (What? I told you it was a slight paraphrase.) God said that through Paul’s—through our weakness—He could be glorified.

     Because, guess what? He can use the depression. He can use the suicidal thoughts, the anxiousness, the panic attacks, the paralysis, blindness, deafness, the amputees, the murderers to show His grace. Because if His grace is sufficient enough for Paul, then it’s sufficient enough for us.

     God shines through those cracked pieces of the mirror and illuminates the true person lurking behind there. He illuminates our true selves, the ones hiding in darkness, in shame, and He beckons us out. He doesn’t want us to hide ourselves under this guise of faux perfectness. He wants us to let Him take the broken pieces and give us a testimony. Give us a heart for others who are suffering through the same thing. Soften our hearts to those in trouble, make us more compassionate. 

     Make us better witnesses. 

     Because we can’t do this on our own. On our own, we are a bundle of flaws and human errors. We are a mirror with shards missing because people have abused us, because of battles we’ve fought with ourselves. But if we were whole, no light could shine through. We would block the greatness of God with the greatness of ourselves. 

     Let me finish with a thought from a sermon my grandpa preached a few weeks ago. He said: “God is not disillusioned with us; He never had any illusions to begin with.” God knew about Paul’s thorn (even if we don’t). God knew about David’s affair even if the kingdom didn’t (sans Nathan the prophet, who heard about it from God). God knew about Thomas’s doubt, Peter’s pride, and so on. This didn’t “ruin” His opinion of them. He knew from the beginning they were fallible. 

     He already knows that you are fallible. That I am fallible. He sees the person cowering behind the broken glass. 

     And He loves us anyway. He wants to rip away this false illusion that we’re hiding behind and shine through us, because in our weakness, He is made ever brighter.

     Because you know what? 

     We may be cracked.

     But at least we let the Light in.