I stand in the kitchen feeling so very small. Watching the cup of water spinning in the microwave, I’m lost in thought and wondering how much more the Lord will have to yank out of my depths before it is over.
It’s been 14 months since I asked the Lord to empty me… of all of me.
The microwave dings and for the moment, I forget the bits and pieces of my heart scattered all about.
Why is this taking so long? Lord, don’t you know I am empty? There is nothing left.
I grab a mug and make tea , and I pour it all over my hand. And the tears come, just like yesterday, and last month, and every month since June 2011.
I clean up the mess and put aloe on my burning hand.
And I’m angry.
Not over the ruined tea, but because I am so tired of crying. I want to take it back, the part about asking the Lord to empty me because it hurts too much. It costs too much.
It is costing me…me.
My hand is burning and my eyes are still brimming with tears and I know the truth.
I am loved and this is all for my good and His glory.
All of the tears and wrestling and working out this faith is about my good and His glory.
And isn’t that the point? Isn’t the whole point of this life to become less so that Christ can become more?
Less of me and more of Him, no matter how many tears have to fall…
For when I am weary and broken, His grace abounds.