alabaster

glory | worthy | praise | break | cost | oil | pour

The man that hired the workers, it was his money to do with it what he wanted and he chose to pay every worker a full day's wages regardless of the amount of time they worked.

What are you willing to break? Intentionally break. What are you willing to to pour out. Do you pour out something that doesn't hold any value? At one church service, one of our pastors spoke about giving Jesus our all. She went on to share that often times she tries to give her best. But the invitation is to give our all, the worst included. A couple of weeks ago, our pastor also spoke about love and letting ourselves be loved. How we try to clean ourselves up, but God can and does love us in our muddy state. When we're the ones causing harm. God has love for us in that state too. Mercy and grace, not excusing our behavior, not condoning it. But with pure and sincere love, being able to see past the state we're in to the beautiful being we were intended to be. Even in writing this, I have an idea of what I'm trying to express, I've felt it, I've lived it. But I keep writing, deleting, re-writing because it's not eloquent enough, I'm not able to string my words together the way it feels to be in it. And what's the end to this? I want others to read this and have a revelation of Jesus's love for them, too. But I also want that validation, the accolade, the ego stroke.

So here's the truth. I went through June feeling like I was breaking. Truly breaking. My mind, my heart. I couldn't sleep and when I could get to sleep I would have nightmares or would wake up in the middle of the night and it would be hard to get back to sleep. I couldn't even sleep in. But even though I couldn't sleep, I also couldn't get out of bed or I wouldn't. I could only see the worst case of everything. It seems now like it took the whole month for me to be able to step outside for walks again. And I cried like I've never cried before in my life. And there's no way of explaining it, if you know you know type of experience. I can keep saying "I don't know what it was" or "I guess it was God", but everything in me knows that it really could only be God. Because it was all perfect timing. The church started opening on Mondays for prayer and worship. And the serve teams began to meet on Wednesdays for healing and deliverance. So much crying. And so much sweating. For the past couple of years, I've been sweating so much more than I think I ever have. It tends to happen now when I'm nervous, when I feel like there's attention on me. But I also know it's part of exposing myself to these new interactions. I don't know who or how I am. I don't know how to just be. Or I haven't known how to. I feel like, yes, I'm shedding some aspects of myself and now that they've left space, I'm not sure what fills that, practically speaking. What do I talk about? How do I relate? How do I connect? What do I do?

I don't belong where I used to be. I don't belong where I am. That's what it feels like. I feel so empty. But so real. Softened. Stronger. Sincerely, sometimes it feels like I'm crazy. Because I feel like I'm getting back to my self in God, so things are more beautiful and I'm also so aware of the pain and the hurts.

To be broken! One day I'll have the words. One day I won't need the words.