Broken

"God never misses a single tear of the oppressed. He sees our suffering and knows the depth of our need. He anguishes yet He waits... until the tears that have fallen on dry ground or upon the shoulders of others equally frail are poured instead before His throne. He waits--not until the oppressed cry out--but until we cry out to Him."
-Beth Moore

Whenever I come to the end of my rope--whether it be emotionally, physically, spiritually, or intellectually--I know that God is near. I know that when I've failed to do things on my own, that is when God's strength is able to be fully displayed in my life. When I recognize that I can't make it a step further without him, he shows up. In 2 Corinthians 12:9, Paul writes God's words to him: "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness."

When I finally came to the point this week where I could finally admit that I was, yet again, broken, I stopped there. It was like I was crying to the heavens, "Here I am God! I'm broken. I know you desire a broken heart, and I have one." But then I didn't give my heart to him.
I was holding onto it for dear life. I was living as if the process stopped there. I realized this when I was sitting in my room by myself, too "strong" to cry. Finally I gave my heart, shredded into a thousand pieces, to God again. I couldn't even offer it up. I asked God to pry my own clenched hands from my heart and to take it and make it new again. I asked God to wash the stains from it and to pour in his love; to fill in all that was missing.

He did. And again I breathe. My heart beats strong for Him. My strength is renewed. Praise the LORD!