In a recent discussion, a gentleman pointed this out. I was more focused on why the "others" weren't spending time basking in God's Light, than why I was. My broken-ness was a necessary choice for me. I could live no other way as I had come to the end of my ability. "God help me!" was not only my desperate plea, but my white flag-I cannot do life anymore. The pain is too great. The path is too dark. The trail too steep. The baggage too heavy. I put everything aside and sat down to wait, for death or for God. And He showed up in His time, as usual, but who am I to argue?
Perhaps there are people who have too much material possessions to know what need feels like. Their bellies are always full. Their extremities are always warm. Their legs are never fatigued, except from working out in the gym. Their vision is adequately corrected. They give to their church and even sponsor a child in Africa. They may even believe in their inherent sinful nature, but have they had the privilege to see their spirits, empty and hollow, ravaged by defects no matter how well dressed? Have they fallen on their face, in their death of a life, before the holy throne to beg mercy and received it?
I used to be angry at the people who seemed more into the fluff of church-being seen, giving the right amount of money, doing good for the sake of being good. They know their stuff. Many can quote the scripture inside and out and teach me loads of doctrine and church organization. Today tho, I feel sad for them. I have died. I have been raised from the dead. I have Easter in my spirit, in my mind, in my heart, in my joints. My soul cries out for God and is heard. Like the Sunday school song-I have the joy, joy, joy, joy down in my heart. Do they? I don't really want to talk about doctrine and organization. I want to talk about grace (surprise!) and love and giving because we were given to-because I need to empty myself to allow God to fill me more.
I am not jealous or angry anymore. I am sad. And I intend to bring Jesus' message to Christians, if God allows me. I choose to accept my broken-ness so that God can make me whole. Which do you choose-broken-ness or a duct taped soul?