When Only Christ Will Do

I've been saying it for years now...that Jesus sees beauty in the broken things.  But I met with Him on Friday, and He asked me this question:  "Do you believe?  Do you believe that I can make your life beautiful?  Do you believe that I can transform what has been broken and use it for My glory?  Don't you believe that you are always free and whole and beautiful... in Me?  And Child, why would that not be enough for you?"

Hmmm... what does it mean to believe?

My heart is burning in my chest, and not just because I ate too many corn chips.  My heart is burning because I can hear His voice more clearly when the hard things are at hand.  My wonder-bread flesh wants things comfortable...

"Don't give me no pain."  

But...when I hear the voice of my Jesus calling me out of comfort, out of this full, fatness that makes my soul sluggish and luke warm, I want Him to give me the harder thing still.

Crazy???

Though I lay on my couch weeping with this sorrow that engulfs me at times, I cry out to Him for more.  More of the fiery trial.  More of persecution.  More of the hard road, because I am deaf and blind with out them.  They are my truest friends outside of Christ Himself.  They are the true North of this life in Christ compass.  When I am comfortable, well fed, and my relationships are going well, my heart wanders from the cross life.  I can not be grateful when I am most comfortable.

I can not be grateful and comfortable at the same time.

Even when He lavishes my family with the most precious time on the water.  When our conversation is rich with the gospel, and we sit around morning coffee and hot chocolate relishing each other and all the beauty that surrounds us.  Even in that, there is a joy so full that it hurts...that Christ so crucified would meet us in our small circle.  And bless us.

Jesus Christ makes the wretch His treasure.

And the only joy I can experience now is when He is in it.  The only thing I can trust is the sound of His voice.  And I find myself disliking all this comfort, and longing for more of the giving away life so that I can know Him more and hear Him better still.

Oh Christ...like a deer pants for water, so my soul does long for thee.

What is this stirring in my soul?  Is not my heart, burning within me?

I wake from my slumber and find my mouth forming the words of something deep within my spirit that my mind has not dwelt on consciously.

"Here I am, Lord.  Send me."

Make me a Believer.

Take this life, Father, and make it beautiful for Your glory.

Thy will alone, be done.

But ONLY...  Give me Jesus,

Bernadette