If right now the Lord seems to be asking everything of you, if you sense the call to leave all your precious things on the altar, to relinquish, to entrust into His hands not knowing whether you will receive your "Isaac" back for burial or in resurrection--
If that is where you find yourself today, dear crumble, let us remember this: we cannot outgive God. Whatever we relinquish today is a small sacrifice compared with what He has already given in His Son who lived love by dying for the sins of His enemies. Whatever dream we empty at His feet drains out only to make room for the fullness of Himself.
He is the LORD, who brought us up from the land of Egypt. Let us open our mouths wide, wider, as wide as we can, that He may fill (Psalm 81:10).
If that is where you find yourself today, dear crumble, let us remember this: we cannot outgive God. Whatever we relinquish today is a small sacrifice compared with what He has already given in His Son who lived love by dying for the sins of His enemies. Whatever dream we empty at His feet drains out only to make room for the fullness of Himself.
He is the LORD, who brought us up from the land of Egypt. Let us open our mouths wide, wider, as wide as we can, that He may fill (Psalm 81:10).
Broken, Rabboni?
The brightness of this alabaster dream
Shattered into fragments at Your feet?
What preciousness deserves so great a price?
This is My body, crushed to give for you.
Emptied, too?
Not one sweet drop remaining for myself?
Bereft of fragrance brightening my days?
What gain can justify such costly waste?
This is My blood, poured out for your forgiveness.
Broken, emptied.
Shattered into fragments at His feet.
Not one drop spared, the fragrance fills the house.
The poverty of all my all is dust
Beneath Your feet, O worthy, precious Lord.
Your sins have been forgiven; go in peace.
Shattered into fragments at Your feet?
What preciousness deserves so great a price?
This is My body, crushed to give for you.
Emptied, too?
Not one sweet drop remaining for myself?
Bereft of fragrance brightening my days?
What gain can justify such costly waste?
This is My blood, poured out for your forgiveness.
Broken, emptied.
Shattered into fragments at His feet.
Not one drop spared, the fragrance fills the house.
The poverty of all my all is dust
Beneath Your feet, O worthy, precious Lord.
Your sins have been forgiven; go in peace.
{from Luke 7:36-50}
sharing with Bonnie's community on the theme of brokenness today:
