I am broken.
I came to this conclusion reading another person's blog.
This made me realize I was broken.
What does that mean for me though?
Well, my broken and your broken may be two completely different things. Some people can handle more or less than others, which is just fine. It is the way we are made.
I think that I have a broken sense of love.
I know that my family loves me, but when it comes to people outside of my family, I either love too quickly or am unable to love or let them love me. I want them to love me so that I can fill that spot in my heart that my mother abandoned. It is like trying to fit a square peg into a round hole though. It never seems to work.
I know for a fact though, that I am not nearly as broken as I used to be.
I thank the Lord every night for my progress. I just wish He would help me to figure out my brokenness and help to fix me and put my pieces back together.
It is a process, I guess.