The Dis-ease of Brokenness and the Cure We’ve Been Evading
By Kateb Nuri-Alim Shunnar
This reflection is confirmation.
Brokenness is a dis-ease—a slow, creeping sickness that doesn’t stay neatly bottled up inside us. It overflows. It spills out. It seeps into our conversations, our moods, and the way we treat the people who genuinely care. It’s like dragging around a bag filled with jagged glass heavy, painful, and tearing through everything. And the worst part? We’ve carried it for so long, grown so accustomed to the sting, that we don’t even realize we’re bleeding all over the ones who love us.
Let’s be real. We push away the very people who want us to be whole. That’s a crime against the heart, an injustice against those who stood by us when we had nothing to give. And for what? To protect our wounds? To defend a pain that has already done its damage? Enough. It’s time to let it go. That monster under your collarbone one that snaps at kindness, the one that locks your heart up like a prisoner, yeah, that one. Release it. That nasty, defensive attitude? Let it go. That bitterness clinging to you like a second skin? Let it go. Say it out loud:
"I seek assistance in patience and prayer. I seek refuge in the Creator from the evil whisperings of my ego and my hurt."
Because brokenness doesn’t just show up it moves in. It rearranges the furniture of your soul, settles into the walls of your mind, and before you know it, you’ve built a home inside your suffering. But listen to me: You do not have to stay there. The Creator is knocking, waiting for you to open the door. He wants to air out the sorrow-soaked space you’ve been living in, but you’ve got to make room. Some things, some people, some patterns they’ve got to go.
And let’s talk about that. Because some of us are holding onto friendships, relationships, and habits that do nothing but keep us tied to our wounds. We mistake familiarity for loyalty, but let’s be clear: just because someone has been in your life for years doesn’t mean they deserve to be in your future. Sometimes, the only thing connecting you to them is mutual dysfunction. Some people love you, yes, but only the broken version of you. And when do you start healing? They get uncomfortable. That’s your sign. Step back. Let them go. Wish them well, but don’t let them chain you to a past you were meant to outgrow.
You weren’t created just to survive. You weren’t put here to simply exist you were made to thrive, to rise, to be a light in a world desperate for it. But you can’t do that if you’re still dragging around the weight of your pain. The Creator is calling you to something greater, something deeper something that requires you to finally set that weight down. And I know it’s not easy. Leaving behind what’s familiar, even when it’s toxic, is one of the hardest things you’ll ever do. But staying trapped in a cycle of self-destruction? That’s even harder.
And if you think your pain is too deep, too tangled, too impossible to unravel, hear me when I say this: The Creator can answer that impossible prayer. He can take what seems beyond repair and restore it. He can lift you out of the fog, out of the heaviness, out of the emptiness. But you have to meet Him there. You have to sit in stillness, to allow healing to take place. He will raise your frequency in sincere, heartfelt meditation He will shift your spirit, clear your vision, and lighten the burden you’ve been carrying for far too long.
So today, I need you to make a choice. Will you stay locked in the prison of your suffering, or will you walk toward the freedom of healing? Will you hold on to bitterness, or will you allow yourself to get better? Will you keep dragging the weight of the past, or will you finally finally set it down?
The path has already been laid before you. The Creator has already made a way. All you have to do is take the first step.
And when you do? That dis-ease, that heaviness, that darkness hanging over your soul? It will begin to lift. And in its place? Peace. Healing. Light.
It’s been waiting for you all along.
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