Beautifully Complex
How Do We See Each Other?
We collect seashells in jars around the house and on a tray on our kitchen counter. I spend a lot of time puzzling over them and photographing them.
The broken shells are my favorite.
It’s like peering into windows of amazing spirals, colors, and design, like seeing the infrastructure of cathedrals.
There are several “perfect” shells in the mix. They are marvels, but I never get to see inside them.
I feel the same way about “perfect” people. Like perfect shells, it seems like they belong on a display shelf with warning signs: “Keep your distance. Don’t touch.”
But there are no perfect people. We are all broken.
Every person’s life is a story of wounding and healing, failure and resilience, pain and grace. Some people’s lives seem to have only a crack or a chip. Some try to hide their brokenness and end up exhausted and lonely. Other lives are so hard, they’re like crushed sand.
How I see brokenness (my own and others) has changed. My go-to when I sinned or failed in the past was to beat myself up and cycle into self-criticism and shame. (I cycled a lot!) If others hurt me, I tried to keep my distance from them. (I hid a lot!)
By God’s grace, I am becoming gentler with myself and others.
Now, when someone surprises, irks, disappoints, or hurts me, one of the first things that flashes in my head is, “Oh I’ve done that, too.”
Then I think, “They’re beautifully complex.”
We all struggle with sins, wounds, fears, and longings. We’re inconsistent, complicated, wanting to do good, defaulting to sin and our self-protective shells.
St Paul identified with this. What I don’t understand about myself is that I decide one way, but then I act another, doing things I absolutely despise.Romans 7:15 MSG
Can we ever know others fully? (Heck, I don’t know myself fully.)
Even so, I’ve come to believe we’re all beautiful mysteries.
Some push back and say, “We’re not mysterious. We’re sinners.”
How do we know what is most true about us? Our sin or our goodness?
Growing up Catholic. I learned a lot about original sin. I like how James Bryan Smith says it in his book, The Magnificent Story: Uncovering a Gospel of Beauty, Goodness and Truth: “The Bible says of humans, ‘God saw everything that he had made, and indeed, it was very good.’ (Genesis 1:31) This was said right after the last act of creation. The first thing we learn about humans is that we are good—very good. Instead of starting with original sin, we ought to start with our original goodness.”
As I wander into my Wonder Years, I want to give myself the grace I try to give others. If they are beautifully complex, if they perplex or frustrate me with their decisions, can I give myself the same grace for my inconsistencies, for my stupid choices?
Can I see myself as beautifully complex, too?
Yes, because Jesus came and died for my sin and brokenness. He forgives, gives grace, and set things right. He smiles at me with tenderness and tears.
Paul concludes Romans 7 asking who will rescue him from his own wretchedness, sin, and brokenness:
The answer, thank God, is that Jesus Christ can and does. He acted to set things right in this life of contradictions where I want to serve God with all my heart and mind, but am pulled by the influence of sin to do something totally different. Romans 7:25 MSG
And then, because he knows we still struggle with our brokenness, he affirms, There is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus. Romans 8:1 ESV
When we’re in home in Heaven, will our brokenness still show as Jesus shows His scars? I know that in our redeemed perfection, we won’t be that shell on a shelf with a “Do Not Touch” sign.
What is your picture of brokenness?
My words are “beautifully complex.” Please let me know how you would describe yourself and other people. (As long as it is “safe” to be shared in a PG-rated setting!)