If my soul could be visually seen it would look like a dried out sponge…
Shriveled up and thrown out with no intention for future use.
I am at the end of my rope.
I’m tired of fighting, tired of watered down surrender… tired of attempting to live for Him half-assed.
Half-assed…That’s my problem.
I give Him bits and pieces of my heart when it’s convenient.
I’ve made living for Him a hobby but not something that has radically changed me.
Yes, I’m a “missionary” and I’ve traveled the world.
Yes, I’ve fed starving orphans and looked prostitutes in the eyes.
Yes, I work at a Christian mission’s organization
and go to church when I can convince myself to get out of bed…
But, I can honestly sit here and say I have never given my whole life to Him.
I have prayed seemingly radical prayers
and held my hands high in an attempt at full surrender…
But, I have held on to some comfortable sins for years.
I have given Him most of me…
but convinced myself that the chains that define me are okay to keep.
It’s just “who I am”, I tell myself.
My chains are like leeches…
Sucking the life out of me.
Keeping me from true authenticity with Him and those around me.
I exhaust myself trying to cover up my nasty heart … resulting in coasting through days and suddenly looking back and seeing years of numbness wasted away.
I’m tired of merely surviving.
I want to get butterflies when I see gorgeous sunset.
I want to worship Him by simply seeing a flock of birds flying in unison.
I want to be able to sit across the table from my best friend and say that I truly love my life.
But instead, I waste my days away looking towards the future…
my spirit yearning for such a day that I will just be FREE.
I yearn for it but I don’t see a light at the end of the tunnel.
I don’t see a day coming that I will be free.
Why?
Because I don’t have the strength to do it any other way.
I don’t have the devotion or even energy to truly surrender.
I don’t have the passion to go back out to the Nations and tell them about Him
when I can’t even sit in America and tell my lost brother how GOOD He is…
…When I can’t even let myself believe how good He is.
I just don’t know how to end this sick war of my flesh and my spirit.
My flesh is a beast who wants to whore myself out to the ways of this world
My spirit gets in a word every once in a while saying
“NOOO THERE IS SO MUCH MORE!”
and then is immediately quieted by the desires of my flesh quickly after.
I am physically exhausted from this inner fight.
I hear the Savior say, “just step off the ledge, I’ve got you”…
But my flesh finds comfort in these spacious yet limiting walls of my sin.
I don’t want to let go.
Oh, but I do.
I want the freedom and fruit of letting go…
But not the blood battle of surrender.
Not the pain and tears and anger and loneliness that accompanies such surrender.
His sweet whispers soothe me…
but I still don’t want to let it go.
I still don’t want to cut chords that have been my source of shallow life.
But, I have to.
Why would I waste another day.
Cheers to diving in to a new freedom.
A refreshing newness of living for Him and Him alone…
Pushing past the lies and deceit that the life I live is all that there is.
That the choices I’ve made define me.
That the suffocating boundaries I have limited myself to are set in stone.
Cheers to giving Him all of me, not just pieces.
Cheers to the blood bath of my flesh being murdered by my spirit.
The spirit.
Not even mine.
His.
I am His…
despite the voices I’ve always listened to.
Despite the lies that are thrown at me on a momentarily basis…
I am His…
I am His…
I AM HIS.