When I was born (or roughly around that mark) I was given a little stuffed dog. As I grew I played with that guy a lot. I named him about the most original name you can think of for a dog: “Blackie.” (I’ll give you an Internet High Five if you can guess the color the dog was.) Was there anything just awesome about this stuffed dog? Nope.
But he was mine. And I loved him.
Over the years the dog took some abuse (he spent some time being chewed on by our family’s real dog, Einstein). He lost an eye to Einstein. He eventually lost his other eye. His “fur” became rough and matted. For all intents and purposes, this stuffed dog had stuffed mange.
He’s damaged and messed up.
That’s how we all are though, a little damaged and a little messed up. We all have our scars on us, deep wounds that healed over but still show. Some of us are slightly jaded, some angry, some apathetic. Some people bubble over to hide their wounds, others inflict their pain outwardly.
We are all broken.
And yet, we are songs. Each note beautifully and thoughtfully placed, wonderfully made. Our lives sing a heavenly song scripted by Our Savior.
We are all hymns.
Our beauty does not lie in being perfect but in being perfected. It does not lie in never messing up but in the restoration of those mistakes. It does not lie in our strength but in our weaknesses becoming completed.
Remember this, we are all broken hymns. There is beauty to who we are not because we are made perfect but because we serve a perfect God who created us exactly as we should be. The weaknesses of others may be appalling to you, but your weaknesses may be appalling to them.
Hymns are a work of art. And we are the workmanship of God.
Never disrespect or belittle another’s hymn. Live your song as best you can; you will inspire others to do the same.