The Art of Breathing

I am discovering this, that the Lord works in the trenches of the  misunderstood & lowly.

That He will let something fall to guide our gazes.

In the tragedy, the uncertainty, & even just the disappointment, He is waiting.

That He longs to meet us in the midst of our cancelled plans.

That He wants to hear our song, even when we have no voice left, no words left. Maybe that, after all, is when we need to sing the most.

He is waiting when all of our best-laid plans come to nothing.

When we don't have it in us to perform.

When we feel like the best we have to offer still isn't good enough.

I have discovered that He meets us There.

In our heavy sighs.
In our runny noses.
In our anguished cries.
I also suppose this:
that those sounds might as well be a welcome banner for how much He feels at home among them.

Maybe it's time to stop waiting until we can give Him "our best," & just give Him our now.
Scarred & scrappy as it may be. With our most heartfelt, & maybe even our most unpolished surrender.

Maybe we stop waiting for someone to acknowledge our value, & get on our knees to acknowledge that our value is found in Christ Jesus, & our joy in His name lifted high.

& what if we did that just right where we are?

“The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise.”{Psalms‬ ‭51:17‬}

"So I will run toward all You are; Take Your hand & embrace Your scars; Knowing that You bled so I could breathe again. Carry me; Help me breathe; Your love alone can save this fragile heart." {LGH}

I wrote that song years ago ... Gave up on it months ago ... & couldn't stop singing it today, broken, squeaky voice & all.

It amazes me, how this of all weeks, when my throat has been so tight & unpredictable, He has called forth song from me like never before.

How after I had resigned myself to being more poet than lyricist, He called me to write a song.

It's here that He meets us.

In the places where it is all too clear that, on our own, we were never going to make it.

When we feel like the world couldn't care less, He meets us with startling intimacy & says that He still wants us.

Who could have prepared us for this beautifully shattering truth?

How is it here that He pulls forth beauty from us.

Oh, beautiful mystery of grace.

Him meeting us at the end of our rope.

At the end of our resources.

When we have nothing left, He takes us into His hands & says, "I can use this. I have purpose for this."

When everything else runs out, He never does.

& it's here that I learn to breathe again.

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