Have a dressed up day!

Friday, October 15, 2010

I Fight the Middle Ground and Wait . . .

I'm thinking on this post of hers

Thinking how lovely it must feel to be a vessel.  To be the one God uses to speak through.  To be a chosen one to hear His voice and tell others. 

I followed this trip of hers and cried every day as I soaked in photos and God-size revelations.  I remember the tsunami and my sister's fear.  In every photo we searched for our Compassion children, and I had a hard week.

I click onto prayer requests and follow as a child dies of cancer, trying to block out the pain of parents, because isn't that just too hard to imagine?

I celebrate in the joy of a newborn's healed heart, and then hear the words that she can't listen.  I pray for hearing restored.

I ask for babies to be placed in God's homes.  For a new generation to walk the straight path.  I touch the silk of their hair and hope.

I ask, beg, implore, beseech, borderline nagging, for my baby sister to have her heart's desire.  I ask His will, but with a breaking heart for fear of the answer.  I search for faith.  I hope.

I pray for jobs lost, fear of loss of jobs, fear of losing faith.  Fear of being brave.  Haven't I been there?  How I understand. 

Then I forget to pray.

Then I take the middle ground and stand there far too long.  Comfortable shoes.  Balancing my own teeter totter.

"I know you inside and out, and find little to my liking.  You're not cold, you're not hot--far better to be either cold or hot!  You're stale.  You're stagnant. You brag, 'I'm rich, I've got it made, I need nothing from anyone,' oblivious that in fact you're a pitiful, blind beggar, threadbare and homeless."
Revelation 3:16-17 The Message Bible

Yes, Jennifer.  I am afraid, too.  Afraid I can't provide justice.  Your words have me pondering long into the night.  

I think on this post of hers, I ponder Jennifer's words.  I think of being a vessel, of being chosen.  I think of prayer.  I know I hate the middle ground.

I think I know the answer, why this sadness has settled and won't lift.  I have too much.  I have been too blessed.  I have recovered to face another to recover and my loss is small. 

But my gain?  What have I done with my gain?

What will I do? 

He breaks my heart and I rejoice.  To feel.  To hurt.  To imagine what can not, should not, be imagined.

To hope.  To run with faith.

So I think on this post of hers and being a vessel.  Open to His voice.   Desiring to hear the pain of His voice and be poured out.

And I wait to be filled.

No comments:

Drawing of me losing my cool courtesy of budding artist, Izzy.

Have a dressed up day!

. . . put on a heart of compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience. Colossians 3:12