I am such a human.
Faulty, frail, fragile. Bruised, broken, battling an enemy. I mess up, I make mistakes, I mean to do well, but instead do poorly. Greedy and guilty, I have a severe case of "human."
The rain of honesty pours over my humiliated self.
Whiny words and slimy thoughts, so often I am far from pure. I know what I ought to do and I often do not do it. I do what I know I should not. Rabbit trails of selfish sorrow and pitiful play dates take over my mind, when I am not careful. Carelessly wandering, the words in my head run rampantly, in circles. Circling the truth with wagons of lies from the enemy. Swirling round and round, inviting fear and insecurity and selfishness.
The rain of reality pours over my vulnerable self.
Wayward, my heart slides. It slides off to the side of me, off the path of purity and wholeness and freedom and peace, off the path of Him, more often than I want to admit, confess, own. It takes all of me to walk on the grass. Every ounce of energy, it deceivingly seems, is taken up and used to pursue good.
The rain of confession pours over my healing self.
My dreams are big, wild, and I believe, graspable. Dreams and visions and hopes to bring Great Love to this world. Greatness and freedom that only He can offer; joy and peace that surpasses understanding. In the daily and the weekly, in the momentary parts of living. In the sweeping and the scrubbing, in the sitting at our desks and the ordering our coffee, in the opening of our eyes in the morning and the laying of our heads on our pillows at night. Joy and peace, I crave to reveal, but joy and peace are only found in Him.
And I am so human.
I am trying, just as you, to find my way on this weary land we named Earth. One foot in front of the other, I attempt. And when my world is quaking, my heart breaking, peace resides because Heaven still stands. We never leave His strong and safe hands. Even at our most offhand, sinful, broken states.
I am merely human. Just like you. I have 24 hours in a day, a family I want to nurture and care for, a home I love to make, a list of to do's that must get done. But a vapor, is this life of mine. Though I am weak and fragile, made up of such fickle flesh and bones, my soul is strong when rooted in Him. Though I am sinfully broken and have reason to breathe shame, and even some people would cast that shame, because of Him I can breathe grace and peace. Because of Him I can stand in His strong hands and have confidence that I am okay, right where I'm at - wherever I'm at. That I will, one day, understand fully His plans and goodness and love. A love that is patient and kind, selfless and sacrificial, hoping and believing the best.
The rain of honest vulnerability [right where you're at, whatever that is] washes off the filth of facades and the masks we place onto our broken [beautiful] selves. The rain of honest humility, scandalously vulnerable hearts, cleanses the pressure of wearing a fake face and leads us to a purity of wholeness, offering a launchpad into His gracious and freeing way.
Rain brings fresh new life.
It is so freeing to be right where you're at, and accepted. Wholly known and so patiently loved.
“Are you hurting? Pray. Do you feel great? Sing. Are you sick? Call the church leaders together to pray and anoint you with oil in the name of the Master. Believing-prayer will heal you, and Jesus will put you on your feet. And if you’ve sinned, you’ll be forgiven—healed inside and out. Make this your common practice: Confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you can live together whole and healed” (James 5:13–16).