Today I sat down with my Bible. I prayed for God to meet me in my mess. I decided to write a few words down in my journal before I began to read my Bible. I decided to put on paper in single words my jumbled heart.
Writing down these things is hard. My life is great. I should be ashamed to even have these feelings. So I write that down, too. The list just grows as that line of thinking continues to take over.
I closed my journal and cried. Then I opened to the balm of the Psalms. The place where David and others poured out their heart to God. The Psalms are honest, transparent, and leave nothing unsaid.
I turned to Psalm 27 and underlined in my Bible was the following verse: "My heart has heard you say, "Come and talk with me." And my heart responds, "Lord, I am coming." I turned back to the beginning of Psalm 27 and began to read.
The Lord is my light and my salvation-so why should I be afraid? (v. 1)
And right there He began to chisel away the list. The list is long.
Lord, do your mighty work in me.
Have Thine own way, Lord,
Have Thine own way.
Thou art the potter, I am the clay
Mold me and make me, after Thy will,
While I am waiting, yielded and still. (Pollard Stebbins)