Regent University School of Udnergraduate Studies

Saturday, November 24, 2007

My broken heart

I don't know about you, but when I ask for something intentional that will draw me closer to the heart of God, I get it. And I get it fast.

For the past two years my biggest prayer has been, "Lord break my heart for what breaks yours"...
Not long after I prayed that I found myself weeping over the salvation of my immediate family, the children of Africa, the battlecry generation, and neglected children in general. My heart isn't just that God's Kingdom come and His will be done especially in these areas, but it's also to be so knit together with Him that when He cries for them I do, too. And to know that when I cry He does, too.

If there is one thing I've come to a sure knowledge of about God it's that He desires us to be so closely linked with Him that no key, saw or hammer can break the chain we have with Him. No amount of pressure could destroy the intimacy we have with Him. Regardless of pain, trials, and circumstances we can still know and have the heart of the living God and draw close to it even when our own heart seems to be already broken. The comfort is knowing His heart breaks for things just like ours does and that we can identify with Him. If we're willing to trust Him to work out our brokenness He can give us His.

When He quickly answered my prayer He wasn't messing around. I was sincere and so was He. So I'm not boo-hoo talking here. I'm talking as low as I can get, face to the floor, weeping so hard that I can barely move kind of heart breaking. There's no way I could ever make up the kind of pain my heart feels for what it does. All I know is that I count it a privledge to carry this portion in my heart.

Sure it hurts, in fact, it pierces my soul in ways I could never explain, but I have the honor of being so close to my Maker that I feel what He feels and know what He knows. His secrets are safe with me and mine are safe with Him. Sure everything in me wants to see my family jump up and down with joy, hop on a plane to Africa and wrap my arms around and forever hold those precious little ones, have conversations everyday with youth, and constantly play with and hug children everywhere I turn, but as I wait upon the Lord for His direction and provision to move in a few of these areas, I enjoy the closeness I share with Him.

I don't share this to say God isn't the Mighty One who doesn't rescue those who are hurting and in need. He does. But usually He does it in a unique fashion that pulls you and I into the divine mix. It develops us, equips us, transforms us and trains us for battle. And heck, for an opportunity to be THAT close with Him, and to plead with Him for His own heartache, you better believe I'll take His pain over my satisfaction.

Give this one a shot. Ask the Lord to break your heart for what breaks His. Be ready for a breathtaking movement in your heart and use it to draw closer to Him while you plead for it. He'll stir things in you that you never thought could be stirred and He'll mess you up in ways you never thought imaginable... but be encouraged. You'll get to know Him in ways you thought were impossible!

Friday, November 9, 2007

Stricken with love

11-9-07 12:47pm
Here I sit at Panera trying to read the few books I have to read for class, but I can’t concentrate. I never can. I can’t stop thinking about my Prince.

Who am I? Who am I that He rescued me? Who am I to deserve what He offers? I fiercely question, WHO AM I?!

I am in awe… He chose to think of ME. He chooses to spend time with ME. He chooses to love ME. He chose ME before the creation of the world. He knew the day I was born. He was there. And He’s here now. And all I can do is let my chin shake, with a tear rolling down my cheek as I struggle yet again to explain in words what I know and feel when I think of Him.

I’m replaying “Offering” by Third Day over and over again, and as I sit in my cozy booth in the corner near the door, feeling the chilled fall breeze as the door opens and closes, my eyes flood with tears… so much that I can barely see through my glasses as I type this. I am overwhelmed by God’s presence, His character, His nature…

He didn’t have to die on the cross for me. He didn’t! But He did… I write this gazing, staring out the window at the tree whose leaves are about to fall, thinking of the One man who has ever loved me enough to sacrifice His life for me so that I could know Him.

This I will never understand, but will always be thankful for.

I will never get enough of Him. I can never be satisfied without Him every breathing moment. When He tells me He dwells here, I melt. When He tells me He’s sent His angels to encamp around me, I quiver with joy. When I see Him smiling over me I cuddle to the closest material thing and stay there, in hopes of feeling His real, yet intangible touch, while hiding my face in humility, only to moments later lift my head and smile joyfully.

The littlest things He does and reminds me of capture me. All it takes is seeing His face and I’m a goner-stuck to His heart like a magnet on a refrigerator. When He reaches for my arms and pulls me close I can’t help but feel the warmth of His breath and touch. My Hero is closer than He sometimes seems.

That’s it. I have nothing to offer other than my love in return. I have more love than I could ever know what to do with, but I want more. Father, stay. I tremble when You’re near. Let me never forget Your love. I love spending my days with You. You are my Prince. Stay and study with me. I love You.
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