Mercy kissed my brokenness-La misericordio beso mi quebrantamiento



While reading The Wisdom of Tenderess by Manning, I came to a paragraph that describe excatly how I feel in my own personal life. I was surprised to realized that those words I was reading were describing my life, my soul and my spirit. How can that be possible? Well, those words were writen by a brokenn person same as myself. This is what I read and it was just like me writing it, “The community had nothing to offer me; no one had a word that could take away my emptiness. It would be futile to search frantically for a key; a formula, a program of things to do in order to find my way back to the lost paradise of closeness with God. In the brokenness of my given situation, I was outside any healing. No one could present me with a remedy. Tenderness was gone. The contrast between my sinfulness and God’s holiness allowed only the desperate prayer of the tax collector, “O God, have mercy on me, a sinner”I prayed those words over and over and over. I was bleeding in my heart, and I couldn’t stop the hemorrhaging. When mercy came in the back door, my character defects didn’t bolt out the front door; they went underground, but they didn’t leave(and still haven’t). That’s when Mercy Kissed my brokenness”

Mientras leia La Sabiduria de la Ternura de Manning, empeze a leer un parrafo que describia con exactitud como me sentia en mi vida personal. Me sorprendi al darme cuenta que esas palabras que yo leia describian mi vida, mi alma y espiritu. Como podia ser posible? bueno esas palabras fueron escritas por una persona quebrantada como yo. Esto fue lo que lei y es como si yo mismo lo estuviera escribiendo: “La comunidad no tenia nada que ofrecerme; nadie tenia una palabra que pudiera alejar mi vacio. Seria inutil buscar desesperadamente por una llave; una formula, un programa que yo pudiera hacer para poder encontrar mi camino al paraiso de la cercania con Dios. En el quebrantamiento de mi situacion personal, estaba fuera de cualquier sanidad. Nadie me podia dar un remedio. La ternura se habia ido. El contraste entre mi pecado y la santida de Dios me hacian que solamente pudiera elevar la oracion del cobrador de impuestos. “Oh Dios, ten misericordia de mi, un pecador”. Clamaba esa oracion una y otra vez. Sangraba de mi corazon y no podia detener la hemorragia. Cuando la misericordia entro por la puerta de atras, los defectos de mi caracter no salieron por la puerta de enfrente; se fueron bajo la tierra, pero nunca salieron de casa(y aun no se han ido). Alli es cuando la misericordia beso mi quebrantamiento.

Italics are mine.

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