There’s a kind of ministry we don’t sign up for. A ministry we don’t train for. A ministry we don’t advertise or celebrate.

The ministry of being broken.
It’s the ministry that happens in the quiet places — in the tears no one sees, in the questions we’re afraid to ask, in the moments when our strength runs out and all we have left is honesty.
This week, God reminded me of something I didn’t want to revisit. A moment in my life where I felt shattered — emotionally, spiritually, and even physically. A moment where I didn’t feel anointed… I didn’t feel strong… I didn’t feel “called”… I just felt broken.
And yet — that was the moment God used the most.
Not because I was powerful. Not because I was polished. Not because I was perfect.
But because I was real.
Brokenness has a way of stripping away everything we hide behind. It removes the performance. It removes the pressure. It removes the pretending.
And what’s left… is the part of us God can actually use.
I used to think brokenness disqualified me. Now I understand it positioned me.
Because here’s the truth:
God does His best work with broken pieces.
He multiplies broken bread. He heals broken hearts. He restores broken spirits. He rebuilds broken lives. He uses broken people.
Your brokenness is not the end of your story — it’s the beginning of your ministry.
The moments you thought would destroy you are the very moments God will use to deliver someone else.
The tears you cried in private will water someone else’s healing in public.
The pain you survived will become the testimony someone else needs to keep going.
So if you’re in a season where you feel cracked, crushed, or completely undone… you’re not failing — you’re being formed.
Takeaway: Brokenness is not your weakness — it’s your offering.
Until next Tuesday — stay transparent, stay surrendered. Yvette Worshipps
