Living in a fallen, broken world
Luke 4:16-19 KJV
Is there anything more frail than a bruised reed? We have all seen one at the water’s edge. A once slender and tall stalk of sturdy river grass, it is now bowed and bent. It’s bruised and broken.
That’s a pretty accurate picture of what can happen in our lives. Once we stood so tall, so strong, so proud, and so confident. Then something happened, you were bruised and broken because of any number of reasons in life.
Simply put, this happens because we live in a fallen and broken world. We should expect disappointments in all facets of life
How do you mend a broken reed, a broken life?
1. The good news is this: With God all things are possible.
2. The good news is this: We have a Redeemer who also is a Healer.
Luke 4:16-19 KJV
16 And he came to Nazareth, where he had been brought up: and, as his custom was, he went into the synagogue on the sabbath day, and stood up for to read.
17 And there was delivered unto him the book of the prophet Esaias. And when he had opened the book, he found the place where it was written,
18 The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he hath anointed me to preach the gospel to the poor; he hath sent me to heal the brokenhearted, to preach deliverance to the captives, and recovering of sight to the blind, to set at liberty them that are bruised,
19 To preach the acceptable year of the Lord.
3. The good news is this: Jesus passion is to the poor and needy just like you and me who are bruised in life.
The word bruised refers to broken in heart as well as broken in body.
"to smite through, shatter," is used in Luke 4:18, "them that are bruised," i.e., broken by calamity.
4. The good news is this: God has overcome the world; God is our companion in life’s battles.
However, unfortunately for us, our faith does not insulate us from hardships in this life
a) How many of you have been bruised by life, bruised by people who didn’t understand you, or bruised by events that brought pain into your life.
By harsh words
By a friend’s anger
By a spouse’s betrayal
By your own failure
b) Bruises sometimes cause us to limit ourselves.
We think because I have this or because that happened to me, I could never…
Jesus is saying the Spirit of the Lord is upon me in order for me to mend your bruises and set you free from the limitations they have caused you.
5. The good news is this: God loves you just the way you are, but He refuses to leave you that way.
(1) The crowning attribute of Christ was this: his heart was spiritual. His thoughts reflected his intimate relationship with the Father.
(2) If you are going to grow in your walk, you must be willing to allow God to help you to change, to be more and more like Jesus.
6. The good news is this: Our Lord offers the best answer and the most hope for living in a fallen, broken world. Even though we don’t always recognize it.
Devotion written by Micca Campel
My family and I went to see the “Wizard of Oz” performed at the Tennessee Performing Arts Center this week. It was fabulous!
Like the characters in Oz, we are all in search of something. For some it’s riches and fame; for others its popularity or position. But the Scarecrow, Tin man, and Lion weren’t looking for any of these things. No. They were in search of something far greater—wisdom, love, and courage.
In order to obtain these wonderful qualities, the friends went on a journey to see a great and power Wizard—who no doubt could grant what they sought. Along their way to the Emerald City in the land of OZ, they were meant with much adversity. Evil in the form of a wicked witch did all she could to keep them from their path. Not only that, but she wanted to steal Dorothy’s ruby slippers that were given to her by the Glenda the good witch. Sound familiar?
Along our journey in life, we too, are met with hardships. Sometimes our troubles are the result of consequences brought on by our own bad choices. Others times they are the results of simply living in a fallen, broken world. Often times, our misfortunes are caused by our enemy, Satan, who is out to steal what God has given us. If Satan can steal our hope, joy, and peace he’s done much to shut us down. Thankfully, like Glenda, our heavenly Father is always watching out for us, protecting us, and guiding us back to the right path.
After arriving at Oz, our friends soon realized that the Wizard was no Wizard at all. Disappointment swept their hearts for they had traveled a long way in hopes of great gain. I can help but identify with their disillusionment. Often, I look to God as if He has a magic wand. With one wave of His wand, my troubles would be over or I could have instantly what I want. But this isn’t the way God works.
It’s often on the journey of life that we gain riches of character just like our friends. You see, in the end, the Wizard helped the fictional characters to see that what they sought they already obtained. For the Scarecrow had a brilliant mind and the Tin-man was a kind and caring friend. …And what about the lion? Well, he was no dandelion at all. He was the bravest of the bunch! Even Dorothy realized that she didn’t have to go looking for what she sought. It could be found in her own back yard.
Application of this story
Like Dorothy and her friends, we don’t always see the obvious—God’s provision in everyday circumstances—but it’s there and available waiting to empower us beyond our imagination.
Application of this message:
Painted on the canvas of our lives is the tender touch of a Creator who has a special place for the bruised and weary of the world
STORY FROM : “BRUISED REEDS AND SMOLDERING WICKS” by MAX LUCADO (He still moves stones)
IMAGINE IT’S a Saturday afternoon in October. What you needed to get done today, you’ve already done. Your afternoon lies before you with no obligations. Free afternoons don’t come as often as they once did, so you consider your options for the day. You pick up a paper to get some ideas. A movie? Nothing good is showing. Television? You can do that any time. Wait. What’s this? An ad catches your eye.
Special Art Exhibit
“Bruised Reeds and Smoldering Wicks”
2:00 to 4:00 Saturday Afternoon
Lincoln Library
Hmm … It’s been a while since you’ve seen some good art. Bruised Reeds and Smoldering Wicks? Probably some nature stuff. Besides, the walk would be nice. You’ll do it. You lay down the paper, put on a coat, and grab some gloves.
You’re greeted by the musty odor of books as you walk through the library doors. Behind the counter sits a librarian with her hair in a bun and a pencil behind her ear. A student with a backpack at his feet stares into a drawer of cataloged cards. A table featuring old Life magazines strikes you as interesting. You start to pick up the one with Truman on the cover when you see a sign that reminds you why you came. “Bruised Reeds and Smoldering Wicks” it reads and points you toward a door. You walk across a hallway and open one of two heavy, wooden doors and step in.
It’s an intimate room—no larger than a nice den. Bookshelves cover the walls, and books line the shelves. A fire crackles in a fireplace, and a couple of high wingback chairs invite you to spend the afternoon with a good book. Maybe later, you think. First, the art.
Placed around the room are the paintings. All framed. All in vivid color. All set on easels, in pairs, and always back to back. You put your gloves in your coat pocket, hang your coat on a hook, and move toward the first painting.
It’s a portrait of a leper, the center figure on the canvas. He stoops like a hunchback. His fingerless hand, draped in rags, extends toward you, pleading. A tattered wrap hides all of his face except two pain-filled eyes. The crowd around the leper is chaotic. A father is grabbing a curious child. A woman trips over her own feet as she scrambles to get away. A man glares over his shoulder as he runs. The painting is entitled with the leper’s plea, “If you will, you can …”
The next painting portrays the same leper, but the scene has changed dramatically. The title has only two words, “I will.” In this sketch the leper is standing erect and tall. He is looking at his own outstretched hand—it has fingers! The veil is gone from his face and he is smiling. There is no crowd; only one other person is standing beside the leper. You can’t see his face, but you can see his hand on the shoulder of the healed man.
“This is no nature exhibit,” you whisper to yourself as you turn to the next painting.
In this one the artist’s brush has captured a woman in midair, jumping from one side of a canyon to another. Her clothes are ragged. Her body is frail, and her skin is pale. She looks anemic. Her eyes are desperate as she reaches for the canyon wall with both hands. On the ledge is a man. All you see are his legs, sandals, and the hem of a robe. Beneath the painting are the woman’s words, “If only …”
You step quickly to see the next scene. She is standing now. The ground beneath her bare feet is solid. Her face flushes with life. Her cautious eyes look up at the half-moon of people that surround her. Standing beside her is the one she sought to touch. The caption? His words. “Take heart …”
The next portrait is surrealistic. A man’s contorted face dominates the canvas. Orange hair twists against a purple background. The face stretches downward and swells at the bottom like a pear. The eyes are perpendicular slits in which a thousand tiny pupils bounce. The mouth is frozen open in a scream. You notice something odd—it’s inhabited! Hundreds of spiderish creatures claw over each other. Their desperate voices are captured by the caption, “Swear to God you won’t torture me!”
Fascinated, you step to the next painting. It is the same man, but now his features are composed. His eyes, no longer wild, are round and soft. The mouth is closed, and the caption explains the sudden peace: “Released.” The man is leaning forward as if listening intently. His hand strokes his chin. And dangling from his wrist is a shackle and a chain—a broken chain.
In another portrait a scantily clothed female cowers before an angry mob of men who threaten her with stones. In the next painting the stones lie harmlessly on the ground, littering the courtyard occupied by a surprised woman and a smiling man who stands over some pictures drawn in the dirt.
In one painting a paralytic on a pallet urges his friends not to give up as they stare at a house overflowing with people. In the next the pallet is on the boy’s shoulders as he skips out the door of the house.
In one picture a blind man screams to a rabbi. In the next he bows before the one to whom he screamed.
Throughout the gallery the sequence repeats itself. Always two paintings, one of a person in trauma and one of a person in peace. “Before” and “after” testimonials to a life-changing encounter. Scene after scene of serenity eclipsing sorrow. Purpose defeating pain. Hope outshining hurt.
But alone in the center of the hall is a single painting. It is different from the others. There are no faces. No people. The artist has dipped his brush into ancient prophecy and sketched two simple objects—a reed and a wick.
A bruised reed he will not break,
and a smoldering wick he will not snuff out.
Matthew 12:20 NIV
And the smoldering wick on the candle. Is there anything closer to death than a smoldering wick? Once aflame, now flickering and failing. Still warm from yesterday’s passion, but no fire. Not yet cold but far from hot. Was it that long ago you blazed with faith? Remember how you illuminated the path?
Then came the wind … the cold wind, the harsh wind. They said your ideas were foolish. They told you your dreams were too lofty. They scolded you for challenging the time-tested.
The constant wind wore down upon you. Oh, you stood strong for a moment (or maybe a lifetime), but the endless blast whipped your flickering flame, leaving you one pinch away from darkness.
The bruised reed and the smoldering wick. Society knows what to do with you.
The world has a place for the beaten.
The world will break you off; the world will snuff you out.
But the artists of Scripture proclaim that God won’t.
Painted on canvas after canvas is the tender touch of a Creator who has a special place for the bruised and weary of the world.
A God who is the friend of the wounded heart.
A God who is the keeper of your dreams. That’s the theme of the New Testament.
And that’s the theme of the gallery.
Let’s stroll through the gallery together. Let’s ponder the moments when Christ met people at their points of pain. We’ll see the prophecy proved true. We’ll see bruised reeds straightened and smoldering wicks ignited.
It’s quite a collection of paintings. By the way, your portrait is in the gallery too. Go ahead. Look at it. It’s there, to the side. Just like the others, there are two easels. But unlike the others, these canvases are white. Your name is at the bottom. Beside the easel is a table with paint and a brush …
