October 14, 2014

Here's My Heart, Lord...


I stood at the kitchen sink this morning rinsing the breakfast dishes, lost in thought, while David Crowder's "Here's My Heart" played on the stereo. Before I knew it, I was singing along at the top of my lungs on my knees in the middle of the kitchen floor, with arms raised high and tears streaming down my face, pouring my heart out to Jesus and, once again, offering him my heart and life.


I am found, I am Yours
I am loved, I'm made pure
I have life, I can breathe
I am healed, I am free

You are strong, You are sure
You are life, You endure
You are good, always true
You are light breaking through

You are more than enough
You are here, You are love
You are hope, You are grace
You're all I have, You're everything

Here's my heart, Lord….


I can honestly say that every one of those words, those stunningly beautiful and intimate lyrics, are true of my heart and life and what I've come to know and experience of Jesus. As I've walked a very dark and lonely path with him for many years now, those truths have been forever forged deep, deep down in the depths of my soul. They are truer than anything else I know, or anything else I've ever known, and the truth has set me so wonderfully free.




And as I'm coming to the end of that long and winding and difficult season, my heart is so very full. Brimming over and spilling forth. There is laughter and joy and strength and freedom and beauty and hope and passion like I've never known. I wouldn't trade the years of loss and suffering for anything, for what I've gained is a priceless treasure of heavenly worth that I carry with me now and will carry with me still in the beautiful world to come.


Here's my heart, Lord…


Here's my heart.




"How glorious the splendor of the human heart that trusts that it is loved."

~ Brennan Manning




Passion: "Here's My Heart" featuring David Crowder 


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October 13, 2014

Finding Life


I woke up this morning and lingered in my warm, cozy bed thinking about the day ahead. I was grateful it was Columbus Day, which meant a day off of school for our kids and a morning to move wonderfully slow without need of making breakfast, packing lunches, or rushing out the door. I felt happy and hopeful and rested, but even still, I was so aware of my need.


As I prayed a version of a prayer I pray every morning, not so much out of discipline, but more out of desperation and devotion… "Jesus, I love you. Jesus, I need you. Jesus, come. For my heart. For my day. For my family. For me. Be all that I need and more than enough," these words played across my mind...


"Every morning I'm dead on the floor until you come and pick me up and give me life."




I thought they might be the lyrics to a song, the words to a poem, or maybe they came from something I'd read. I wondered who wrote them and I made a mental note to google them later as I laid there and thought of how very true they were. Every morning I wake up virtually dead, thick-headed and groggy and needing coffee, yes, but more than anything, broken and empty and needing the One who gives me life. The only One who can give me life.


Jesus said in John 15:5...


"I am the vine, you are the branches. He who abides in Me, and I in him, bears much fruit; 
for without Me you can do nothing."


I've lived the pull-up-your-bootstraps life with equal parts self-will, self-motivation, and self-discipline with a good bit of self-reproach thrown in for good measure. It's miserable and futile and I've learned the hard way that it never works and it never will, but sometimes I still fool myself into thinking it might. I forget the relief and rest and joy that comes from giving up and laying down.


God created me to need him and to need him desperately and daily. Just as the verse says, he is the vine and I am the branch, without him I can do nothing. With great love, he calls me daily to die to myself, to my own efforts and will, to all the striving and arranging and controlling, and to find my life in him. 


He invites me to abide.


Deeply rooted.


Firmly secure.


Beautifully bearing fruit.


Later this morning, I googled those words but couldn't find them anywhere. They didn't come from a song or a poem or a book, they just came from my own heart… one that daily and desperately needs Jesus to pick her up and bring her life.


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