Copycat gods Can’t Fix Broken People

I entered the world broken.

Born early, my twin sister and I spent days in a neonatal ward. I went home first and my sister grew strong enough to finally leave the hospital.

Though I barely weighed over three pounds, I wasn’t broken in the natural sense—what you’d observe on the outside or have knowledge of internal medical issues. Yet, an unseen and underlying brokenness existed.

All human flesh is born broken. It escalates each day we live until the cracks and scars become noticeable. It’s not detectable in a newborn baby, but soon makes appearances in a young child:

That’s mine! 

I’m not sorry. 

No one likes me. 

I’m angry she died.

I want to run fast like that boy. I want _____ and _____. (There are many fill in the blanks.)

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