re: brokenness

Jesus, how lucky Peter was to have only denied Your name 3 times. The earth should swallow me up because I have disappointed You again and again. I deny Your goodness in my life, and take all Your grace as mine own wisdom and insight. I claim my broken life as mine own, although there is really nothing to claim. My redemption is shallow, and I forget Your goodness. I sin again, again, and again.

Jesus, I cannot pray today. I haven’t been able to pray lately because life has just been so overwhelming. I have become an tangle of emotions and have become so distraught that I just can’t feel anymore.

Jesus, I failed today. My friend came to me, in faith, that I would help her. But I didn’t. I didn’t have time, or energy, or money to help her. And so I justified my own self service, and refused to feed the hungry when I am full.

How can I love my enemies when I cannot love my friends and family? How can I love anybody one else, though I long for it, when I cannot love myself? I fail to love well. I am fickle in my passions and relationships, especially with You.

What have I done to end up in this misery? I know that is only Your power alone that I can thrive on this earth, or even survive. You have taught me that it is impossible to do this on my own and that your power is made perfect in my weakness.

So why must I learn, over and over again, the same lesson? I cannot do this on my own. I cannot melt my calloused heart or open my clenched hands up to You. I cannot lay my head down or accept your easy burden. It would be so much easier I leaned on Your strength and Your rod.

Jesus, you tell me to go the extra mile to love others. Jesus, teach me what that extra mile is. When did I did helping others become a chore? When did I learn to love like you loved only when it is convenient? When did i become heartless and conceited, self serving and self centered?

I despise myself. I weep because i am more broken than I thought. My pride is higher than I thought and I am broken beyond imagination. I never think it can get worse, but it does. Lord, why do I fall? Why cannot I be good?

 

There is a way to be good again.

There is a way to be good again.

There is a way to be good again.

 

The words reverberate through my bones, but I do not believe their truth. They remain true because you remain my true, despite my shifting soul and heart. You Father are steadfast when I am not. I think You are human and forget that You are the Lord of all creation. You will not fail as everyone else does and I fail others.

It is You that gives me the chance to be good over and over again, and like a waterfall your goodness washes over me and drenches me so that I am saturated and brimming with goodness. You love me and You stitch me back together. And every time you pick up the needle, I flinch and I know that You use pain as part of Your plan to strengthen and deepen me.

And my cup runs over. One thousand times over. Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life and I shall live in the house of the Lord forever.

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re: vulnerability

You listen to me over dining hall pizza and cold black coffee. You listen and I see the sympathy in your eyes. You don’t say a word. Minutes earlier you were the one talking and I was laughing so hard I couldn’t breathe, and I thank you for these moments of joy and unconditional love.

But you stopped and listened when I said I had something to tell you. Your eyes were intent, bearing into my soul, oblivious to the people bustling around and this crappy coffee. You didn’t say much; you understand first. You listened with your heart and I know that you cared.

You listened to me over hushed tones in the fifth floor of the library; we whispered and somehow it made it easier to share. And after I finished, I heard your story about today. Your struggle is my struggle and mine, yours. I almost cried when I heard when I heard what your today was like. Mine is still significant, but it doesn’t seem as bad.

I was reluctant to tell you, but I’m so glad I did. You said you would pray for me. Right now, I can’t pray because I can’t find the words admist my frustration. So, it means so much to me that you will pray for me. It means so much when you respect my confidentiality and vulnerability. I know this beause you confide in me as I do in you.

When I tell you the parts of me that are hurting and my embarrassing moments, you acknowledge my miscomings, not afraid to give me truth. But we move on and do life together, and you give me measures of grace as I fall and rise.

I sometimes am afraid to trust people. I do not want them to hurt me. I have been hurt so many times after I have told the bitter and honest truth and the things that people never want to hear. I can be too direct. But I also do not want to pursue people because I fear that  they will not like the mess they find. I do not want them to feel cornered or like I am intruding on their personal life with my brokenness. For their sake and my sake, I turn away so many times. But when I do show you my soul, it is clear that God is listening to me and to you and that it is His love that binds us together.

We need to intrude. We need to infiltrate each other’s lives with love so that no one is alone. Fears should be quenched with love, lonliness should be sutured with kindess and uncertainty should be contronted with truth and grace. There is power in being honest with one another. It doesn’t matter if where we are; I know you will stop and listen when I need.

Sometimes I am so worn from hearing about other’s pain. I feel so burdened by mine own that I cannot sit in front of you and listen to your struggles when I am on the point of tears myself. But that’s where the Father lifts our worries, commanding us to have peace and be still. That’s when grace happens to your soul and mine, and life becomes a bit easier.