In the shadow of the morning, I become small.
In a world that desperately chases large; ministries, followings, muscles, and materialism…
I desire to shrink in light of Him.
And what if we were made to give away…not get?
Instead of hoard and keep and fill ourselves with personal assets…what if the filling is in the emptying, the hope happens when we give up and quit striving?
And maybe a soul is set on fire when it’s kindling is frail and fragile, dry and barren, alone in the wide open, when a spark falls from heaven.
And what if all ministry ends because we turn our minds to getting something; approval and accolades, possessions or professions, ‘likes’ or man’s praises?
And what if true saints are those who give their lives away; to love, in love, for His sake…
With eyes fixed on eternal rewards, not here and now, the temporal?
“We are the clay, you are the potter,” Words of Isaiah, a prophet, resonate heartily…
“We are the work of His hands”. (Isaiah 64:8)
And yet, somehow we think God is impressed by the work of OUR hands, so we do, and go, and try to live like we serve some evil taskmaster…
But what if flowers grow not by trying or wishing, idleness or magic remedies…but by believing in grace, the Creator who puts lilies in place…
And even then, aren’t we, clothes more wondrous than these?
I remember when I sat in front of a counselor almost two dozen years ago…
I told him I couldn’t even go to the gas-station, without applying lipstick. He looked at me, sketched a few words, and I am sure labeled me narcissistic…
And I probably was…
But what if love isn’t earned by the color of your lips, the texture of your hair, the days we serve in church?
What if grace comes by hearing, beauty falls from surrendering to The One who moves mountains, stops storms with his hand…and owns cattle on a thousand hills?
And I have this thorn in my flesh, we all do. It’s called striving. This fleshly sickness that tricks us into believe…who I am is because of what I’ve done…
But, what about when we can’t offer anything, can’t push towers, rise structures, proclaim healing without The One who says, “Heaven is My throne, And earth is My footstool?” (Isaiah 66:1)
Doesn’t God, “bring forth the descendants from Jacob”, (Isaiah 65:8-9) care less about perfect, than those who are willing?
And yet, we learn about teaching, have the right words, grow up like model Christians…
When I wonder if He is simply still searching the whole earth, asking who is willing?
“Who can I send?” (Isaiah 6:8) I hear His voice echoing.
Yet, the world deceives us with this lie that says we must refine our lives, wait until our faces look like those of some Bible giant…before God will accept our offering.
But, didn’t God use the sinner and the saint? The fallen, not the perfect? The willing, not the most excellent who took the front seat and wanted all praise, from others?
And what if God looks more at the quiet crevasses of our hearts, than the loud and boisterous presentations we create inside our minds?
What if he wants our letting go, more than our getting…simply requires our abandoned willingness, prior to His sending?
And where did we get we can make our lives with our hands; create, formulate, prioritize ministry for some selfish sake, some personal achievement….
Without first, silently stilling ourselves, in quiet intimacy, in humility at His feet?
Didn’t the calling always come with first, the drawing near to Him?
Isn’t our own achievements filthy rags? Isn’t all we have to offer is a poor and contrite spirit, one who trembles at His Word? (Isaiah 66:2)
In the shadow of the morning, I shall become small…
Because His rumble lives inside me. His throne-room is my destiny. His heart is my achievement. His face is what I am seeking.
I come to Him not because I offer something…Not because I am grand, or perfect, or chosen, or have some destiny others don’t have…
I come to Him because I know I am weak and useless. I know this once filled vessel is empty and incapable of anything, apart from Him….
I know, my hope is found in the the one who creates heaven and earth. The former shall not be remembered anymore…He is creating a New Jerulsalem.
That’s what He calls it…a people so radically joyous, captivated by His purposes, those who call, knowing He will answer…
Yes, I choose to become small this morning, so He can work through me, so He can shine bright, so He receives all the glory.
I step out of the way, so He can work fully…
Let’s be a people of humility, bowing our heads, confessing our weaknesses…
So, He can be made known and His name gets all the glory.
In the shadow of the morning…I choose to become small.
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