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The Broken Reed
There once was a reed, the most beautiful of its kind. The other reeds admired and exclaimed over her from afar. “Look how beautiful she is,” they would say. “I wish I were more like her.”
Then one day, a strong wind came and bent the reed’s gentle form. And instead of standing tall and straight, she hung limply at her base. “Oh, who will love me now?” she fretted. “For I am battered and torn, and not as beautiful as the others.” And she hid her face from them so they would not see her shame.
But instead of what she expected, the other reeds began to move more closely beside her, exclaiming over her. “How beautifully you shimmer in the morning’s soft light,” they said. “Let us help you stand up straighter so you may better catch its glow.” And so the reed lifted her head once more so she stood a bit taller, and she allowed the other reeds to come near. And she rested upon them so that she might stand straighter still.
And her heart felt light.
That night, the moon’s shadow cast its gentle glow over her and danced lightly upon her frame. And a peace fell over her that could not be explained, only known.
For now–
She was known.
A bruised reed he will not break, and a smoldering wick he will not snuff out, till he has brought justice through to victory. Matthew 12:20, NIV