Stories and Testimonials.

Chelsea’s Story.

“My life has been forever changed by Beautifully Broken, more importantly by the beautiful angel that built this foundation. Sandy is truly a blessing and God is using her to reach people who suffer like I have. In June 2018 I remember feeling a sadness that was sort of unique. I’ve experienced severe depression, anxiety, isolation and even feelings of suicide, but this was different… I was exhausted physically, mentally and not only that I was exhausted of hope. At the time I was struggling with an addiction to Meth with June being about nine months clean from Heroin and Crack as well. I just couldn’t kick the one drug that stole my life, my health, my relationships and most importantly my relationship with God.”

“This sadness was an overwhelming feeling of heartache for my daughter, I knew I was close to death. Life had taken a toll on me and I felt so sad that she would have to endure that pain, I remember crying to God, begging for mercy. I felt so heartbroken for myself as well, for never giving myself the love that I needed to give myself. I let the scars from my childhood taint my future so horrific that I no longer knew who I was or who I had been up to that point. Before it was over I had hurt myself even worse than the people I hurt in the process. My life changed when I had contact with Sandy at Beautifully Broken. She stepped in and helped me in so many ways. My entire life has changed. I went from homeless to living in a sober living house, I work a full time job and my daughter is back in my life. I love you so much Beautifully Broken and am forever thankful, you saved my life.”

A Day at Beautifully Broken: The Story of Sox.

“My name is … hmmm … well, I don’t remember the name my mom gave me and anyway I probably don’t identify with it.

They call me Sox out there on the street.

I’m broken … in almost every way you could imagine.

My hair was colored by a street sister who claimed she was a beautician in another life. I’ve dreaded the hell out of it … cut it up in fits of anger… created bald spots where I’ve twisted pieces of it when I couldn’t get my fix … its dirty.

My clothes are mismatched and dirty.

My face is destroyed by drugs.

I broke my foot a year ago (well I think its been a year) when I kicked the thug who was pimpin me out. It was self-defense, you know. Anyway, I can’t walk right.

I’m ugly! The fever has wracked my body and left its mark.

I’m a mess … broken!

I heard there was this place I could go, for a minute or a day, just to get away from my life.

As I open this gray, obscure, almost hidden door, I’m greeted by a longflight of stairs. Before I can move to the first step ~ I smell … PEACE. I travel this staircase in slow motion, not knowing … yet knowing its good. As I near the top, I can hear ~ Heaven … soft comforting music drifts to my ears, beckoning me to the rise of a different world. The music, the scent of the earth, of rain, of flowers …

What is it?

The proprietor meets me at the top of the stairs. Sandy is her name. She doesn’t look much different than me, except for the sores on my body. Her hair is covered with a bandana. She wears a paint-dappled t-shirt over a knee length skirt, patched with so many different years and memories. Wisps of hair have escaped, and are bejeweled with paint and … sawdust, I think?

I reach to shake her hand, with my eyes on the floor … she pulls me in and wraps her arms around me so that I feel so safe. Before she introduces herself, she says, “You are SO beautiful! Now I gotta look up. She smells like newly fallen rain in the forest, and her eyes are smiling… like she really believes I’m beautiful!

Tears threaten but I push them back.

What is this place?

We sit down beside a window and I see trees. Trees? As I look closer, I realize I’m looking out at the streets of Denver … the Street! But its different, and I feel safe and oddly unafraid.

Where am I?

I turn from the window and notice I’m surrounded by books ~ I love to read! And plants! And … sticks. I mean, she has curtains hanging on sticks … sticks standing in corners … a tree turned upside down with stuff hanging from the roots! There’s beautiful dried stuff in vases, all over … and O! tumbleweeds hanging from the rafters!

We sit in silence while I take in my surroundings … only it’s not silence …I finally realize that there are other women in this space, and I’m self-conscious … shy … curious. Before I can decipher THESE feelings, she softly brings my attention to her, and she begins to tell me the story of The Cracked Pot …

She tells the story ~ and my tears flow, uninterrupted.

She takes my hand then, and leads me through this Haven … this Sanctuary.

I take a canvas and brush and begin to express myself with paint. I tell my story with color … with marks. I will be the only one to know what it means.

Soft laughter, music, happiness, peace surrounds me and invades my soul.

I take a pen and begin to write in the journal — words flow so quickly I hardly know what’s happening. As I pause to rest my hand, I see words like a flood had filled the pages. I’m shocked.

We pause for lunch around an old table and we sit as a group talking. I’m hesitant … but my Heart pours out, mixing my story with their stories. We cry … we laugh … we share. “This is what I did, and it worked.” and “Well, DON’T do this! I was devastated!”

They adopt me … I become part of this family. For the first time since I can remember, I rest. No hiding… no running away… no putting myself in jeopardy so I could have instant gratification that would last only a moment… no shame.

After we clean our lunch away, Sandy brings out a life-sized silhouette of a woman dancing. We work on a collage, putting pieces of magazines to show emotion and thoughts … to show what we do, where we go, what we hear, what we see.

As we collage, we continue our conversations from lunch, launch new conversations … and love on each other.

As the sky darkens, I realize time has passed too quickly. I don’t want to leave.

As I open the door to the street, I realize … I am Beautifully Broken.”