The little clinging tendrils are broken, but the branches bear rich fruit.
The precious alabaster box was broken, but Christ was honored.
The thread of the loom was broken that the pattern might be complete.
Tiny broken bits of colored glass in the hands of a master artist made a grand cathedral window. The broken words of a fervent prayer brought blessing to one who heard.
The broken bread tells the Christian of the Lord's body, broken for his sake.
Then what of the broken plans, the broken ambitions, the sufferings and losses and crosses of a broken life?
If committed into the hands of the divine Artist they shall scatter rarest fragrance.
They shall bear buds of promise, richer fruit, honor to the King of kings, a perfect pattern, a brilliant reflection, a tender chord, a new life, a blessing to others.
"Unto them that are of a broken heart the Lord is nigh.”