There are ruins everywhere.
Some are obvious: broken marriages, wasted years, addictions, betrayals, and choices we wish we could bury where no one would ever find them.
Others are hidden. The quiet ruins inside a person. The places where hope collapsed. The rooms of the soul we stopped entering because we were afraid of what we would find there.
For a long time, I believed my broken places were evidence against me. I thought my losses, my mistakes, and my darkness disqualified me from becoming anything beautiful.
But God sees differently.
Man looks at ruins and sees an ending.
God looks at ruins and sees a foundation.
This is the mystery of Christianity: God does not always restore us by returning us to who we were. Sometimes He creates something entirely new from what has been broken.
A potter does not throw away crushed clay. A gardener does not despise buried soil. A carpenter does not see only scars in old wood.
God has always been in the business of resurrection.
The world teaches us to hide our wounds and polish our image. But Christ came for the ruins.
He stepped into tombs.
He touched lepers.
He ate with sinners.
He called broken people by names they could not yet see in themselves.
The greatest miracle is not that God prevents us from breaking. It is that He enters the breaking and brings something eternal from it.
The places where I once carried shame have become the places where I learned compassion. The places where I was weakest became the places where I discovered His strength.
The years I thought were wasted became the soil where God planted something new.
God does not ask us to romanticize our wounds. He asks us to place them in His hands.
The same God who looked at an empty tomb and saw resurrection can look at a ruined life and see a beginning.
Nothing surrendered to Him is wasted.
Not the tears.
Not the failures.
Not the years we wish we could have back.
The hands that were pierced on the cross are the same hands that rebuild what we thought was beyond repair.
The most beautiful things God creates are not made from untouched things.
They are made from redeemed ones.
B🤍
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