Only God Can Use a Broken Man
— A Personal Reflection
There was a moment — quiet and unexpected — when I realized something inside me was still tender. I thought I had hardened every part of my heart, that I’d buried all the softness years ago. But somehow, there it was: this small ache, quietly pulsing under the armor. And in that moment, I whispered the only words I had left:
“God… I want to heal. I surrender.”
I found myself staring into the mirror — not to check my appearance, but to meet the man I had become. His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, and his hands trembled just enough to betray him. I saw in that reflection a heart gone cold — solid, guarded, like steel. And I hated it. I missed feeling. I missed softness.
I begged God:
“Make this diamond-hard heart a velvet gem again. Let me feel without fear.”
I’ve dropped more balls than I care to admit — relationships, responsibilities, even my own dreams. Life scattered around me like broken pieces I didn’t know how to pick up. It reminded me of Matryoshka dolls, each mistake leading to another version of myself — smaller, more fragile.
I needed help putting it all back together.
For too long, I lived behind heavy curtains crusted with truth I refused to face. I was too afraid to look ahead, to admit that I had no real direction. But now… now I want to see beyond the veil — even if the path ahead looks like jagged mountains.
I asked God to open my eyes.
All I have left is a mustard seed of faith — but I’ve heard that’s all it takes. So I asked for feet strong enough to move when He leads. I feel like a cub, unsure and small, but I’m asking for the defiance of a lion. I want to be brave enough to follow Him back…
Back to Mount Zion.
Back home.
I’ve strayed far from His hand. I know that. I buried my beliefs like bones in dry sand, hoping I wouldn’t need them again. I chased comfort in shaded boroughs — in people, habits, places that numbed me for a while. But in the midst of that self-made wilderness, I still heard Him whisper:
“I have better tomorrows.”
I know I’ve been lukewarm — not burning with passion, not frozen in despair — just… stuck. But even as a broken man, I know now that I’m not useless. I’m not beyond purpose. I’ve learned something priceless in this unraveling:
Only God can use a broken man.
He’s found a spot that’s still tender,
I beg to heal—so to Him, I surrender.
A prayer for the man in the mirror:
Brighten his smile, make the tremble clearer.
His heart’s been cold, with a steel-feel touch,
Make his diamond heart a velvet gem in a pouch.
Help him collect all the dropped balls,
Piece life together like Matryoshka dolls.
Open his truth-crusted curtain,
Let him see beyond—to peaks uncertain.
Provide him with a mustard seed,
And feet that move where You might lead.
Guide this cub; grant him the defiance of a lion,
And lead him home—back to Mount Zion.
For this boy has strayed from Your hand,
And buried his faith deep in the sand.
He sought refuge in shaded boroughs,
Yet still You whispered, “I have better tomorrows.”
I know this reflection has been a fluke,
He’s neither been warm nor cold, just—luke.
Pick him back up and restore Your plan,
’Cause only God can use a broken man.
The inspiration for this poem was found in the song by
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