Rapha & Yada - "Be Still & Know": Reimagined

The last four years of my life have been filled with heartbreak, disorientation, loss, grief, battles with depression, and struggles to hold on to faith in the middle of despair.  

Thankfully, there were also plenty of good things, too.  

I've learned some invaluable lessons over the past few years.  I've learned to focus more on what matters most, and that love is the most powerful force in the universe.  I've learned that you can find peace in the middle of some of the worst things if you are willing to surrender your outcomes.  

And I've learned that when everything shatters, there is beauty in the brokenness that can be remade and become something even more beautiful than you could have ever imagined.  

It's not an easy process to pick up the pieces of what was broken, mind you.  I'm still learning as I go, but there was a quote I read at some point in the middle of all of the mess I was surrounded by that has stuck with me: 

“If your heart is broken, make art with the pieces.” — Shane Koyczan

There is something deeply holy about this kind of resilience. It does not deny the breaking. It does not pretend the pain never happened. Instead, it gathers the fragments and dares to believe that something meaningful can still emerge.

Scripture reminds us that God does some of God’s most profound work in the places where life feels shattered. The psalmist writes, “The Lord is near to the brokenhearted, and saves the crushed in spirit” (Psalm 34:18). Not after the healing, and not once everything is put back together. Right there—in the breaking—God draws near.

Resilience is not simply the ability to endure hardship; it is the sacred capacity to be transformed by it. The apostle Paul speaks to this mystery when he says, “We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed… struck down, but not destroyed” (2 Corinthians 4:8–9). There is a quiet defiance in those words—a refusal to let suffering have the final say.

And perhaps that is where hope begins: in the realization that brokenness is not the end of the story.

Think of the resurrected Christ, still bearing the scars of the cross (John 20:27). The wounds were not erased; they were redeemed. They became testimony. They became meaning. In the same way, the pieces of our own brokenness can be shaped into something that speaks—something that heals—something that gives life to others.

Resilience teaches us that even the most painful chapters can become part of a larger, more beautiful story. It invites us to trust that God is at work, even now, weaving together what feels irreparably torn.

So take the pieces. The disappointment. The grief. The questions that still linger. And begin, however slowly, to make something new. Not because it is easy, but because it is possible—with God.

Let this be your encouragement: your story is not finished. There is still beauty to be created, still purpose to be discovered. Ask God to awaken in you a holy imagination—one that can see beyond what has been lost and envision what might yet be.

Prayer
God of broken and beautiful things, draw near to us in our pain. Gather the scattered pieces of our lives and shape them into something new. Give us the resilience to endure, the courage to create, and the hope to imagine a future filled with your grace. Amen.

Reflection Questions

1. What “pieces” of your life feel broken right now, and how might God be inviting you to reimagine them?

2. Where have you experienced resilience in the past, and what did it teach you about hope?

3. What would it look like to embrace a holy imagination for your future, even in the midst of uncertainty?