Nancy Leigh DeMoss. I really like you.

Nancy Leigh DeMoss.

I really like you.

I have been reading about brokenness. It is good. I am learning that my stubborn sense of 'Git R' Done' is not really the best way to do things. I often find myself with such pride and self-righteousness begrudgingly doing things for people. It doesn't really matter who it is, but it is done with anger or bitterness and with the notion that noone else could do it quite as good as I can. Suck. Busted. Here I am again, weary for the billionth time and feeling bitter. I am nasty to be around and I wear a nasty grimace for the better part of the day. My love tries to embrace me and I scowl. Yuck. I am Mrs. Yuck. Then, I read Nancy Leigh DeMoss. I need it. I need repentance, confession, and brokenness. Yep, you bet! It is hard and sour to taste sometimes. I need it. I long to lay down my burdens, my sin, my worries and concerns before my King. I want to serve Him with my whole heart, even when my kids have explosive poopy diapers and the service doesn't feel so holy. I want to lay down my life for Jesus and for others. I don't want to be so stinking selfish and self-righteous. Brokenness doesn't mean emotional, although it can be. Think humble and contrite spirit.

James 4:8-10. Beautiful.
8 Draw near to God, and he will draw near to you. Cleanse your hands, you sinners, and purify your hearts, you double-minded. 9 Be wretched and mourn and weep. Let your laughter be turned to mourning and your joy to gloom. 10 Humble yourselves before the Lord, and he will exalt you.

I want my will to be shattered and replaced with His will. I am so doggedly determined it is scary at times. I am so convinced that I am right and then I find myself so far from God, from hearing Him and experiencing Him. I complain and moan about His absence. Funny, huh? Not so much. Real, for sure.

Psalm 51:17. Beautiful.
17The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise.

Jesus rebuked Martha. She 'did' stuff. She was busy and she forgot to just be still and worship. My doing must be worship or it is a clanging cymbal unto God. I thank God that my parents named me Marri, it reminds me to stop and worship. I have to be still and wait on the Lord. I have to drink deeply from the living water. I have to because if I don't, I don't see my need for Jesus. I miss the boat completely. I so quickly forget and run to broken cisterns that cannot hold water. I trade the best for the temporary fixes and I reason everything to the hilts. I justify instead of rejoicing over His justification done for me. I attempt to fix what he intends to sanctify. So here I am again, Lord, arms open wide, broken and surrendering my life, my heart, my will to You. Transform me for Your glory.

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