Mend the Broken Portrait

Every frame tells a story. Every face reflects a name. Every smile hides a fracture. Every scar recalls the pain. I became a different man before I walked away. The portrait cracked in silence years before that day. My daughters learned confusion through the choices that I made. Love was standing in the doorway… I chose to walk away. I called the darkness freedom. I called my pride alive. Now I’m standing in the ruins asking, “How did I survive?” Truth was calling. I kept running. Grace kept reaching. I kept hiding. Mercy waited… I chose shame. Now I barely know… The man inside the frame. Mend the man inside the portrait. Don’t just cover up the cracks. Tear apart what sin created. Give this broken life You back. If my children look behind me… Let them see Your hands at work. Not a man pretending wholeness… But a Savior healing hurt. I finally see what they all saw before I understood. The people trying hardest to protect me… wanted good. My father carried heartache I was too proud to receive. My wife spoke words from Heaven… I still chose not to believe. I traded what was sacred for a promise built on sand. Thought I was becoming stronger… while losing who I am. You never stopped pursuing though I wandered from Your voice. Now I live beneath the weight of every selfish choice. Break the image. Break the pride. Break the man… That learned to hide. Leave no corner… Leave no room. Resurrect what pride consumed. Don’t restore the lie. Restore The truth. Don’t rebuild…My kingdom. Build Yours. If You have to break me… Break me all the way. If You have to humble me… Don’t stop halfway. My daughters don’t need perfection. They need a father who kneels. A man who loves the truth… More than the way he feels. Mend the man inside the portrait. Until the picture tells Your story. Take every crack. Take every scar. Fill every empty place with glory. Let my failures become a warning. Let Your mercy be remembered. And if they speak my name one day… Let it always point…To Yours. The portrait isn’t finished…Neither am I. The Artist…Is still at work.