Poured Out

This is the eighth in a series of journal entries begun in October, 2009. Please see initial post on February 21, 2010.

October 25, 2009
Alone yet surrounded by your presence.

Such precious time with you, Lord, by the fire, but warmed by the great love you have poured out for me. I understand Mary desiring to bless you, to touch you, to give of that which was most precious to her. I desire to do no less, O Lord, though that which is most precious is life itself. I am afraid, yet I know I can trust you. My life is secure in your hands, strong hands which were pierced for me that I might not fear.

I see so much of me still in me O God. Why oh why does it always come back to me? You are my strength, yet I boast in strength – somehow thinking I should be admired for what is not mine. Forgive me, Lord. “To God alone be the glory…to God alone be the praise!” Cleanse my heart, O God- break the hold of pride in my life.

How can I share, how can I stand strong without allowing my own heart to be puffed up in my sharing and strength? This is what you are calling me to, yet I am so acutely aware of how it draws attention to me. Forgive me, root out the pride within.

May I so see you that I cannot see me. May others see you and not me. Humble me Lord, may I be weak that you might be strong. I do not seek to be lifted up. Such struggle and turmoil in my soul, O God, I can do naught else but dwell face down at your feet.


Morning has broken.
A long night of being alone with you Lord, yet you have spoken to my heart.
You have brought peace as only you can.


October 26, 2009

Had you stepped outside early this morning you would have felt it. The wind was blowing. That in it’s self is not so unusual here in the high desert, but this morning was a rare gift, for it is mid-October yet the morning was warm and beckoning. I could not resist. Quickly I grabbed my cup of coffee and slipped outside to watch the majesty of God’s colors unfold in the rising sun, even as the breeze danced through the tops of the towering pines.

As I was touched by it’s force and embraced by it’s urgent whisper, I was reminded of how Jesus likened the Holy Spirit to the wind, blowing where it will at God’s direction. We feel His touch and hear the sound of His voice, without always realizing from whence it has come. Yet it is that same Spirit which indwells each child of God, blowing in and through us…picking up the fragrance of our heart… allowing the world around us to catch the sweet savor of God emanating from our lives.

How I have longed for that sweet fragrance to be what flows from my life. Yet I am reminded that it only comes in one way. Mary understood this. Just days prior, she had caught a glimpse of eternity, as Jesus had called forth her brother Lazarus from the grave. Life triumphed where death once ruled, but the ultimate victory would only come at a great price.

Jesus had now come to their home at the start of that final week. In just a few short days, all history would climax around the Son of God who willingly became the sacrificial Lamb of God. In adoration and love Mary brought that which was to her, most precious. Sorrow mixed with joy as she knelt at the feet of Jesus, breaking open the alabaster jar she had brought with her for this very purpose. Tenderly she anointed his feet with the oil that spilled forth from the broken vessel. In love she ministered to her Lord, the unmistakable sweet aroma of what she had given to Jesus filling the room.

How I desire that my life might put forth that same fragrance; that the wind of the Spirit might carry it to those who are in need of refreshing. How I desire it, yet how I tremble at the cost. I look for an easy way that I might avoid the breaking. I ask God to release a sweet fragrance even as I remain whole. It cannot be. It is in the breaking process that I find myself at the feet of Jesus. As I minister to Him, others are touched by the overflow of what has been given and is now given back to my Lord and Savior. There is no other way.

And so like Mary, I turn my focus to the One whose body was broken for me. I kneel before the One whose blood was spilled out that I might be saved. I see Him as the one who gave all for me and I know, I can offer no less. And through my tears, I feel the wind begin to blow…..