“So how do we cut this stuff anyway?” I asked my husband.

He handed me a razor knife. “That part is easy. You score it with the razor knife, bend that chunk backwards, and run the blade down the edge one more time.”

Confident I could handle the measuring and cutting, I grabbed the T-square and measured the sheetrock. But when it came to the “bend the chunk backwards” part, it wasn’t as easy by myself as I thought it’d be.

Sometimes the piece that needed to come off required lifting the whole twelve-foot sheet, balancing it just right, and then somehow pushing the chunk backwards and cutting it off, all while holding the heavy board and not letting it fall.

Another problem arose quickly. My hand wasn’t steady in my cuts and when I pushed the big chunks backwards and sliced them off, I left broken hunks on the edge of the board in a wavy pattern. When we set the sheetrock next to another piece on the wall, it wasn’t flush, and there was still more cutting and neatening that had to be done to that broken edge. I found myself picking the board up, yet again, inspecting it closely, and scraping my razor knife down the edge, trying to create a smooth surface.

And just like the sheetrock, our personal rough edges are exposed in the breaking. Often, we get hints from God of areas that need extra attention. Maybe we submit, but more often we ignore the promptings. Who has time to deal with that little stuff anyway?

But then God takes out his razor knife and scores his line on our hearts. A big, obvious chunk is broken and pushed backwards. And oh how the breaking hurts. As God tries to balance us, we often resist. The bending and breaking of our souls is never easy.

Finally, after much resistance, we stop fighting and let God cut off the piece that doesn’t need to be there. Unforgiveness. Anger. Control. Stubbornness. Pride. And then all our broken hunks down the edge of our hearts are left exposed. Emotions we have ignored suddenly rise to the surface. Fears and worries that were laid dormant are finally felt. Tears that we have resisted rise to the top.

It’s in the breaking, then the cutting, we can truly see the areas that need to be worked on and surrendered. No one ever asks for the hard times. We don’t jump for joy as we try to navigate an unfamiliar world that is suddenly our reality. We don’t ask for the breaking, but it’s necessary for us to be shaped into the masterpiece that God wants us to be. With all those rough edges exposed and being cleaned up, God is actually healing us and making us whole.

It’s in the breaking that we learn of God’s faithfulness. It’s in the breaking that we learn to let him have control. It’s in the breaking that God refines us and smooths our edges so that we can be ready to hang on the wall of his kingdom, a perfect fit for where he is sending us next. It’s in the breaking where we fall apart but are the most whole we’ve ever been.

Don’t resist. It’s in the breaking where we see God’s greatest miracles.