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brokenness

meeting God in brokenness

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“You and I will never meet God in revival until we first meet Him in brokenness.” Nancy DeMoss

It was the culmination of many days of both familiar and challenging thoughts rolling around in my mind.

I felt desperate for peace, for confidence, for resolution. I sat on the couch with tears streaming down my face, journal in my lap, expressing out loud to an empty living room (and God) all the things that couldn’t stay inside. Broken.

I’m in a season of change. A leap of sanctification. A changing of a 25-year-long mindset.

This particular moment felt like a ‘last straw’ moment, an dam breaking, exhausted over my feelings constantly sword fighting each other.

Now, I’m a fixer type, so resting in the midst of a season of change is difficult for me. Change is unsettling sometimes, free-falling, which isn’t a feeling I enjoy. These were my words to J: “I feel like I’m tightrope walking from one mountain of thinking to another mountain of thinking.”

And truth be told, even in this feeling of open air tightroping walking, I know (even if it’s a willful choice) that God is present with me. He’s always close. He’s the oxygen I breathe, His are the arms always ready to steady me.

After 30 minutes of this brutal honesty session, I expected to feel a release.

I didn’t.

Days go by, and I’m wrestling.

“False humility and morbid introspection are, in fact, the opposite of brokenness, as they reveal a preoccupation with self, rather than Christ.” Nancy DeMoss

Being an analyzer, when something is ‘unsettled,’ between me and God, me and another person, or something at work, it rolls around in my soul until it’s resolved. I don’t harbor things well, and I desire resolution. I believe this is a strength in most cases, but in my current place, the above quote resonates loud.

Morbid (synonyms: depressed, fearful, unhealthy) introspection. Preoccupation with self.

I’m running on the hamster wheel trying to fix what is broken in me, and God is asking me to sit with Him in this place.

Is my need to sprint out of a broken place because it’s uncomfortable and I’m ashamed of it? Or am I desiring to experience more of God in it?

A couple days ago, I would’ve said the former. Today, I’m saying the latter.

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