The world has coined various labels for its varied and many generations of people. Lumped together to be perfectly categorized into neat boxes, these generations have been born, existed, survived, and died. Some of its members left indelible marks in the annals of history, some faded like mere bubbles, fragments of an imagination that littered the world for a while with people.
But there is one thing common in all humankind… whether referred to as Generation X, Y, Z or whatever pretentious label man comes up with, all of man’s generations have always been broken.
Broken by the stings of an aimless, meaningless existence, stung by the poisons of inexplicable family dynamics, bitten by varied neuroses… Man tried to cope by rationalizing his brokenness. He tried to make excuses for his behavior by blaming others for it. No one was willing to take responsibility of choices that went wrong, decisions that lead only to more pain and hurt. There was always someone or something to blame. A broken man finds it easy to expose the chink in a fellows armor than deal with his own broken shield.
We are a broken generation. We are a broken people. And we try to heal our brokenness by covering it up with more broken armors and fragments of the self we could have been.
What glues us together are the very same things that broke us apart. The tiny pieces of ourselves have been cast away or were lost, and we believe that we can no longer find those pieces anymore.
But we don’t need those pieces. We do not need to hang on to the tattered rags we are wearing.
Someone out there sees our brokenness for what it is.But, since He crafted us in the first place, He knows that these broken chunks need to be broken, so that the beautiful masterpieces would come out.
We are a broken generation with scraped elbows, and bruised knees and we can turn to the Great Physician to heal our brokenness.
We are a broken people who can be mended by a great God.
