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Broken, busted and disgusted

Broken, busted and disgusted

My sacrifice, O God, is a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart you, God, will not despise.                                            (Psalm 51:17(NIV))

By Bobby R. Henry, Sr.

When we become disenfranchised, disillusioned and dysfunctional, there is still a way for us.

When we find ourselves totally out of whack and we think that there is no use for us, we’re only at the point where we can truly be used.

Stuck in the turmoil of trying to understand and figure out this thing called life can be like the political process that our leaders are engaged in: swimming around in muddy water with no goggles, no scuba gear choking from the pollution of stupidity abounding in their leadership or lack of thereof.

Having no hope, no faith or no spiritual connection is like standing on the verge of oblivion, being overcome by a false sense of security. It’s like skating on thin ice or constantly drinking liquid fifths of courage, even snorting hope up your nose and shooting liquid pipe dreams in your veins.

A lover of fleshly desires, you are eating from the table of evil, dining on delicacies of devilish delights.

Now, caught up in the valley of no return, you are way past the Prodigal Son’s eating slop with the pigs.

You ask yourself, ‘What good am I?’ ‘What do I have to offer life?’ ‘What have I done to be in this state of non-sympathetic remorse for those who have nothing to do with my current disposition?’

And just when those demons of torment are about to push you over the edge into a pit of no return, you wake up from your stupor of self-pity and your selective departure from God.

You hope that your realization was only a dream. Praying this journey called life is temporary without God.

One scathing adventure after another that would leave you breathless, sin-drenched and incomplete.

It’s all about to end and you find yourself feeling like you have just been vomited up from the rip currents of a crashing 100ft grinder wave, on a lava rock shore of a lost island in the middle of nowhere. You’re scarcely alive, the question remains am I worth it, in all of my brokenness, am I worth it?

“Dear God, in the name of Jesus, please forgive me when I don’t understand how You can love me in the filthy conditions I’m in. In Jesus name, Amen.”

GOD SPECIALIZES IN CLEANING UP FILTH

 

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    About The Author

    Carma Lynn Henry Westside Gazette Newspaper 545 N.W. 7th Terrace, Fort Lauderdale, Florida 33311 Office: (954) 525-1489 Fax: (954) 525-1861

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