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Broken Lives Club

Thu, Nov. 10, 2016 Posted: 12:09 PM


Gathered around the table, they scooted closer to make room for the newest member.

Downcast, Trudy slid into the chair with a sigh. The others nodded their compassion, having walked that painful road too.

Anyone observing the group might wonder what brought them together. Different stories, but the same destination of despair. Welcome to the Broken Lives Club—the weekly meeting of the discouraged.

Divorce, disease, despondency, disappointment, and despair from deceit—sat around the table. The Broken Lives Club isn’t exclusive.

Live long enough and there will be a reason to seek membership.

The meeting was called to order by the oldest member. Harold’s burden of brokenness had been carried the most miles. He’d lost his wife to another man decades ago.

One by one, they repeated their stories—picking the scabs off wounds that would never heal.

Into the dusk they filed out, their painful burdens shifted from one shoulder to the other, but still weighing the same. Each had a thin veneer of normalcy, but inside was an emotional blender whipping up a froth of hopelessness.

Trudy said she’d be back next week.

Her corporate world left her jobless and worry-filled. The lack of opportunities had cost Trudy more than her savings; it robbed her of confidence.

But after weeks of hearing the same Broken Lives Club stories, she knew there must be a better answer than tears. Then one windy day as she walked along the marina, she observed the sailboats bouncing against the ropes tying the vessels firmly to the docks. Just outside the sheltered cove the waves crested with fury. The marina looked deserted—except for two men wearing bright yellow lifejackets. They checked their sails and pushed away from the dock.

Transfixed, Trudy watched as they loosened the main sail to catch the prevailing wind. When no one else wanted to face the wind, these men used it to enjoy life beyond the harbor. Was the Broken Lives Club keeping her roped to a dock?

Week after week, she’d been tied firmly to a place that wouldn’t change.

While things might break in her life, she didn’t have to live broken.

Smiling, Trudy recalled the name emblazoned on the side of the sailboat: Second Wind.

Rather than being tied to the dock of her past, her second wind had the power to change her life’s direction. She was ready.

For sure there is a future and your hope will not be cut off. Proverbs 23:18

Karen Farris