From the Editor
Welcome back, friends. We are so excited The Cry has returned to the print and the digital world! Whether you have been connected to Word Made Flesh since its inception or this editorial is your first encounter, thank you for being a part of the WMF community. Much has changed since the last issue of The Cry. Clint Baldwin, who we are delighted to have as our new executive director, speaks more specifically to those changes and the trajectory of WMF in his letter on page 4. Among those changes, you may also learn our home office moved with the Baldwin family from Portland, Ore. to Wilmore, Ky. – right across from Asbury University.
This past February I was able to make the trek “down South” to visit the new headquarters, meet our wonderful U.S. office staff, enjoy the Baldwins’ hospitality, and brainstorm with several Asbury students, who we are excited and grateful to have interning with us. It was a real treat, complete with Kentucky snow flurries, Lenten reflections from “Common Prayer,” and a blast from the past as Clint and I studied editions of The Cry dating as far back as 1995. It is my hope and prayer The Cry will continue to be a means through which the people in our community (those we serve, supporters, staff, and more) are encouraged, strengthened, and given a voice.
The Cry will continue highlighting one of WMF’s Lifestyle Celebrations in each issue. (See page 11 or our website for more on these celebrations.) This edition picks up from where we left off and focuses on brokenness.
When I reflect on brokenness, I first think of my brokenness – my cyclical return to sin via things I have done and things that I have left undone. I grapple with my experiences and how they have shaped me into who I am. How some of the harder things I have known have been compounded by the brokenness of others, and likewise, generations upon generations of broken people. I think of systems and structures in our societies, which in some cases have lasted centuries before being challenged, and even then, have remained broken and deeply painful.
Brokenness, despite its apparent grip on our lives, does not have to keep us stagnant or isolated. In the same way that physical brokenness requires respite and looking after, emotional and spiritual brokenness find healing in safe spaces surrounded by friends – where a person can ebb, flow, and remain guarded by love. WMF aims to be some of those friends who can stand watch and whisper words of hope – for a new Eden.
I think if we try to ignore the brokenness in ourselves or others, we maintain distorted lives and cannot fully participate in our vocations. However, in acknowledging that something is amiss in every one of us, we can discover some roots for commonality. When nothing else seems similar between our circumstances and those of people experiencing homelessness, for example, brokenness is a glorious interruption. This is why we celebrate it. Brokenness converts “them and those” into “us and we.” We are the broken.
Even more beautiful than the unity of humanity, brokenness draws us into Christ. Before everything we have ever seen or known, He offered up Himself to be broken for us. In this we catch a glimpse of the Bride of Christ – unified in brokenness, resurrected by and for her Lord, and entering into a new Kingdom where the weak will be made forever strong; all our longings will be filled; and all separation, injury, and despair will be met with healing, justice, and wholeness.
Peace be with you friends,
Megan McFarland
Editor of The Cry
megan.mcfarland@wordmadeflesh.com