Our signatures were barely dry on a million mortgage papers when we stood beneath the Carolina sky planting the sweetest little Magnolia tree in our new front yard.
One sapphire summer day, as my sons played around her, my favored magnolia somehow lost a limb, leaving a scar etched upon her. Yet to my relief, she remained resilient, keeping quiet watch over our days, our years.
Recently, as my camera and I strolled around the yard, I bent to capture a fragrant bloom when I noticed my magnolia’s scar isn’t as visible anymore, for branches now flourish all around her wound. Broken yet whole, abundant life reaches wide from within that scarred magnolia of mine.
As I pondered this, I realized I’m my own version of a broken magnolia.
Wounds of rejection etched upon me long ago by those I’d expected to love and protect me, have left their scars. Perhaps you, too, have some scars, dear friend.
Yet looking back on a life marked by rejection’s grief, I see the active presence of a faithful God through it all, and I realize—the hurt that left me feeling broken never limited God’s power in my life. And, the scars you carry haven’t limited His power in your life either, my friend.
Those wounds etched upon me have grown a heart within me that God uses to offer blooms of compassion and belonging to others. Broken yet whole, flourishing limbs of purpose reach wide from within these scars of mine.
In Scripture, Jacob’s favored son, Joseph, understood this well.
Sold into slavery by jealous brothers, Joseph struggled in the foreign land of Egypt. Yet God gave him wisdom and influence there, and ultimately God led Pharaoh to give Joseph authority over the entire land of Egypt. Joseph eventually married and had a family, and when his second son was born, Joseph named him Ephraim, which echoes a Hebrew word meaning “fruitful.”
“… For he said, ‘God has made me fruitful in this land of my grief’” (Genesis 41:52).
Through it all, God faithfully grew new life and purpose all around the grief in Joseph’s story, ultimately using Joseph to provide famine-relief in Egypt, both for the Egyptians and for his own father and brothers. (Genesis 40-47).
You see, God’s activity isn’t limited by our understanding. Even when His hand isn’t visible from today’s perspective, our faithful God is working amid the scars of our stories, growing abundant life and purpose.
Dear friend, the broken parts of your story don’t make you a broken person. You’re still the whole, cherished, purpose-filled woman God created you to be. The wounds of your story are not lost on your God. Take heart—those scars you fear might limit you, become powerful testaments of the God who tenderly meets you in them, growing abundance in their midst. 
What broken-magnolia moments have you had in your life?
Where can you recognize God’s active presence growing abundant purpose amid your scars?
How can I pray for you today, friend, as God tenderly meets you in the broken parts of your story?
We’d love for you to join the conversation at Proverbs 31 Ministries today, friend. ♥
I can truly relate to Genesis 41:52 along with Joseph. Many if not all single parents can (no matter the circumstances that cause us to be one solo parent). I only recently apologized to my children for their challenging life when I made a choice to go it alone for their safety. The stigmas,l and discrimination attached to the parent and their offspring are heinous and often come from the community that is supposed to embrace and protect them- the church. But God- trusting Him and raising my children in the same faith that would one day become their own despite the hurtful words and actions slung at them, is proof that God’s agenda rules- making us all over over comers and winners in the end (just like Joseph). They are never too broken to be loved, successful and able to reach their hands and hearts to help others in need of a peaceful nonjudgmental act of kindness that expresses God’s love and compassion (something they discovered growing up because of their faith and mine).
Oh, Rita, what a beautiful testimony. I’m so sorry for all y’all’ve endured. Praise God for the way He’s tenderly meeting y’all in the midst. Thank you for sharing, dear sister. Praying for your family today. 💗