Sabbath Devotional :: Broken

Photo courtesy of Tiago Almeida via Unsplash license.

Jesus Christ invites us to “come unto [him] with a broken heart and a contrite spirit” (3 Nephi 12:19). What does it mean to have a “broken heart”?

I once heard a teacher point out that we use the word “broken” to describe the process of taming a horse and training it to be ridden. Knowing that the Lord would like us to be someone who “putteth off the natural man and becometh a saint through the atonement of Christ the Lord, and becometh as a child, submissive, meek, humble, patient, full of love, willing to submit to all things which the Lord seeth fit to inflict upon him, even as a child doth submit to his father” (Mosiah 3:19), what can I learn from the analogy of a horse being broken?

George Dawson, in his autobiography “Life is So Good,” describes the experience of watching a group of cowboys try to break a horse. Two or three men held the horse back with ropes while others tried to subdue this very wild creature. They got frustrated and began to hit and whip the horse. Eventually, one man started hitting the horse with a lead pipe. At that point, George jumped up and said, “I can ride that horse.” He couldn’t stand seeing animals hurt, so his boldness came from a place of compassion and love. The other men left the area, and George approached the horse, but didn’t touch it. Instead, he watched, and waited for the animal to make the first move. With gentle strength, he quickly earned the horse’s trust and was able to ride it.

Dawson’s experience reminds me of a description I remember from “Farmer Boy” by Laura Ingalls Wilder. In describing the process of breaking a horse, the book says that the horse-breaker began to “gentle him.” Although it’s been a long time since I’ve read that book, I’ve never forgotten that description of gentling a colt.

My friend, Suzanne, who breaks horses, told me, ‘When I break a horse, I am taming it to not be afraid of me and to trust me that I won’t put him in any danger. But also that we work together and become partners in our ride. He gets to understand what I need him to do. The ultimate goal at the end is that we’re partners, but also that the horse is obedient to my commands. Horses work for us not out of fear but respect and love.” She also told me, “Some people do train and break horses with a lot of force and punishment! But if you don’t want a horse to leave you high and dry, that forcefulness doesn’t work!” The right way to “break” a horse involves the correct use of authority and power.

In the Doctrine and Covenants, we learn about the use of authority in righteous priesthood stewardship. This is how the Lord interacts with us:

No power or influence can or ought to be maintained by virtue of the priesthood, only by persuasion, by long-suffering, by gentleness and meekness, and by love unfeigned; by kindness, and pure knowledge . . . Reproving betimes with sharpness, when moved upon by the Holy Ghost; and then showing forth afterwards an increase of love toward him whom thou hast reproved, lest he esteem thee to be his enemy; that he may know that thy faithfulness is stronger than the cords of death (Doctrine and Covenants 121:41-44).

The process of being “broken” by God is similar to Suzanne’s process of breaking horses. As we enter into a covenant partnership with God, we establish trust. Just as the horse needs to be obedient, we need to bend our will to God’s — but ultimately, we choose to obey because we respect and love our Savior. And he is always motivated by love and compassion.

In the past, I have reflected about my own role in presenting a broken heart and contrite spirit to the Lord, but this metaphor helps me to think about the Savior’s role in helping me gain a broken heart. He uses a gentle, kind, and patient approach to “gentle” me.

Another metaphor that helps me ponder what it means to have a broken heart is the term “heartbroken.” I remember a time of heartbreak in my life. It had been a difficult year of unexpected change, severe trials, and terrible tragedies, and I felt truly broken. I flew home from a funeral and curled up in the fetal position and stayed there for a month. One Sunday afternoon, an observant and compassionate ward member sent me an email with the subject line “Are you okay?” No, I thought. I am not okay. But I decided to get out of bed. I needed to find the Savior and I knew where to look. There were just a few weeks until Easter, so I prepared what I called an Easter Advent — a study plan about the Atonement and Resurrection that included sacrament hymns, General Conference talks, and long passages of scripture. Though I believed “that we through patience and comfort of the scriptures might have hope” (Romans 15:4) and had been reading my scriptures every day even during my grief, I was not expecting what happened. Studying now with such real intent changed me immediately. I felt an added light, hope, and relief. My grief didn’t disappear, but my burden of grief was made bearable. The gentle power of Jesus Christ came to my broken heart and placed me on a path to healing.

Christ was sent “to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to them that are bound” (Isaiah 61:1). Elder Dale G. Renlund said, “As you act on those words [‘Hear Him’] and listen to him, remember, joyfully and reverently, that the Savior loves to restore what you cannot restore; he loves to heal wounds you cannot heal; he loves to fix what has been irreparably broken; he compensates for any unfairness inflicted on you; and he loves to permanently mend even shattered hearts” (April 2020, Consider the Goodness and Greatness of God).

Christ heals our broken hearts. He invites us to come to him with a broken heart. We do our part in learning to be humble; seeking him, and asking him for help. Christ assists by gently teaching us how to enter into a partnership with him. Throughout mortality, we will have truly heartbreaking experiences. When we bring those broken hearts to Christ, he will heal us. Our trust in him allows us to “come boldly unto the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy, and find grace to help in time of need” (Hebrews 4:16).