messy

It is amazing to me how many emotions one can feel in a single moment. I just spent several minutes trying to be self aware (which I really am not at all) and pinpoint my feelings right now. But I couldn't. Maybe that's because of my lack of self-awareness, or maybe its because there isn't really a central "feeling" to pinpoint. Maybe right now I'm just a jumble mess.

I think that much of my life has been spent trying to be un-messy. To be clean-cut, seamless, with an unbreakable exterior. For the first two decades or so of my life, I chalked this up to my personality. I am, by nature, an internal processor, an organization-lover, and a planner. I like order and I like to know what I'm getting myself into for that I can be overly-prepared. But guess what? Sometimes the internal processor needs to talk and the external processor listen. Sometimes the planner needs some spontaneity. Sometimes the organizer needs something in life that won't fit in her compartmentalized box of a life. Sometimes, I need to be thrown into a situation and have to actually rely on the Holy Spirit rather than my prideful flesh.

Life is messy. When the Spirit of God collides with human flesh, things get messy. I, in my perfectly crafted external good Christian girl shell, can neither receive what God is giving nor give what God requires. Until I, like Mary of Bethany, break the flawless flask that holds my life at the feet of Jesus, I can't fully know His love for me. As long as I'm operating in a spirit of pride, thinking somehow that if I keep myself appearing good enough or spiritual enough, I'm not allowing Jesus to give me the fullness of His love. Because He came to the world for the sick, not the healthy. As long as I masquerade as a healthy one, I'm rejecting the healing of the Doctor. I am broken and desperately in need of the Physician's healing.

And my whole life is the only thing that Jesus wants. He loves me and treasures me no matter what my response to Him is, but being fully His costs me my life. I simply cannot have my safe, put together self while following the King of Kings. Following Jesus requires my life.

Sacrifices, by Paul David Tripp (Psalm 51:17) 

Perhaps
if I give you some of my time.
Perhaps
if I give you some of my strength.
Perhaps
if I give you some of my things.
Perhaps
if I give you some of my thoughts.
Perhaps
if I give you
some of my relationships.
Surely
these sacrifices
will bring you delight.
Surely
these offerings
will bring you joy.
I'm quite willing
to give a tithe.
I'm quite willing
to interrupt
my schedule.
I'm quite willing
to volunteer
to serve.
But I get the sense
that you're not satisfied
with a piece of me.
I get the sense
that momentary giving
momentary service
momentary sacrifice
momentary ministry
the momentary turning
of my heart to you
will not satisfy you.
But I must admit
that I'm afraid
of what you require.
I'm afraid of a
broken spirit.
I'm afraid of a
contrite heart.
I'm afraid to be 
crushed by your grace.
So I try to
distract you
with my service
distract you
with my time
distract you
with my money.
Deep inside
I know what you want.
Deep inside
I'm sure of what you require.
I'm afraid
because I want to hold onto
my heart.
I want
to give it to other things.
I want to 
pursue pleasures
outside of you.
I'm afraid
to give you
what would satisfy you.
I'm afraid of a 
broken heart.
So I regularly offend you
with empty offerings
and vacuous praise.
Hoping 
to my own destruction
that you'll be satisfied.