A few years ago, I traveled to a modern, shining city. The people were sophisticated yet warm and friendly. I met some young college women that were highly educated, and on the surface they seemed to represent the promise of a bright future.
Deeper conversation, however, revealed the darkness underneath. These brilliant young women suffered from a sense of brokenness and a poverty of hope. A history of being marginalized within their own society, and a secret despair that they hid behind ambition. They lived in terror of failure. In desperation, yearning to know their own value, they had made damaging choices. They fell victim to predators. There were so many hurts and so much shame.
I returned home, stunned by their stories. I was welcomed by the sweet open faces of my daughters, untainted by shame and rejection. I wept for those girls I barely knew in that foreign place, and I wept that I could not protect my own girls forever from the ugly world.
I wrote Broken Soul based on Isaiah 61, and took it back with me to that city to sing it over those precious girls, as a prayer of hope for them. But it’s for anyone who feels shame.
Shame can find you anywhere. In modern shining cities, in third world slums, in American middle schools.
But hope can find you too.
There is only one brand of permanent hope, and it can only be found in one source: Jesus Christ, the hope of the world. He does not discriminate. He does not marginalize. He does not reject or victimize anyone. He Himself was rejected, murdered. God Himself, identifying with us in our shame.
That’s real love, shoulder to shoulder with us, working to reconstruct the broken pieces of our lives because we are loved and valued and beautiful.
That is my prayer for you, listener – that you know you are loved and valued and beautiful.