Break My Heart for What Breaks Yours, Lord

"Break my heart for what breaks Yours, Lord. Give me the strength to not look away when I see brokenness, and give me the wisdom to know how to help well."
This is my daily prayer, and God is answering it. My heart is breaking, and I’m learning to not look away.

I’ve started looking the panhandler in the eye, offering a smile, even if I don’t have anything to give. I’ve realized that, even if I can’t offer anything material, I can offer him the dignity of acknowledgment. I’m trying to truly see the refugee woman with five young children – all under six years old – and find a way to lend a hand where it’s needed. I’m stopping to engage with the man who has no clothes, wrapped in a trash bag for warmth.

For some of you, these actions might seem obvious, even second nature. But for me, this is a new and very active effort. I’ve often chosen to exit stage left when things felt uncomfortable or too big for me to fix. It's uncomfortable to sit with the tension of knowing about a need and yet not being able to fix it. But I believe God is teaching me to not look away.

It feels as though God is removing scales from my eyes, allowing me to see what I could not before. The more I pray this prayer, the more brokenness I see — sometimes in places I least expect. Let me caution you: this is a hard prayer to pray. There is brokenness everywhere — at home, in our neighborhoods, and around the world. We can't carry the weight of all those burdens on our own. Only God can bear that load.

What we can do is bring Him what we have – our "fishes and loaves."

I was reminded of this truth recently while talking to my four-year-old son, Titus, about the miracle of the loaves and fishes. I realized something profound: the disciples didn’t just give Jesus what was left over or what they could afford to spare. They gave Him their only food—the only food they had between them. There was no backup plan, no extra snacks hidden in their bags. They trusted Jesus enough to risk going hungry themselves. They offered what they had — everything they had — and allowed Jesus to work a miracle with it.

In Matthew 14:16-21, we read:

"Jesus replied, 'They do not need to go away. You give them something to eat.'
'We have here only five loaves of bread and two fish,' they answered.
'Bring them here to me,' he said. And he directed the people to sit down on the grass. Taking the five loaves and the two fish and looking up to heaven, he gave thanks and broke the loaves. Then he gave them to the disciples, and the disciples gave them to the people. They all ate and were satisfied, and the disciples picked up twelve basketfuls of broken pieces that were left over. The number of those who ate was about five thousand men, besides women and children." (NIV)

I love that Matthew records the disciples saying, "We have here only five loaves of bread and two fish." The word "only" reveals how small and insufficient their offering seemed to them. In their hands, it wasn’t enough. But in Jesus’ hands, it became more than enough. It became an abundant feast that fed thousands, with twelve baskets of leftovers.

This is how we often see our own resources: insufficient. We look at what we have, and we think it’s not enough to make a difference. But in God’s hands, what seems small or insignificant can multiply in ways we can’t imagine.

When we offer God our "only,” He can take what we bring and use it to feed the hungry, heal the broken, and bring hope to the hopeless. Miracles happen when we trust God with what we have and allow Him to work through us.

So, as I continue to pray this difficult prayer, "Break my heart for what breaks Yours, Lord," I know that I don’t have to solve every problem or fix every need. I can bring my loaves and fish — however small they may seem — and trust that God will multiply them. Miracles await on the other side of our obedience.

Let’s offer God our "only" and watch as He turns it into more than enough.