Rooms of My Heart

 

Today started like so many others. Hopeful that things would change in several rooms of my heart. Off to a prayerful start, followed by a loud crash as I let my flesh take over and the complaining, criticizing and unwholesome talk began to spill out. It's okay. I dusted myself off and here I sit at my laptop, tapping away in another surge of legitimate hope. I read a scripture today that conveys that what we say reflects what is in our hearts. Not real happy with the fruit of my lips so that one smacked me hard. I prayed that my heart would change so that my mouth would follow. It was and is a reminder that it all starts with my thought life. A submitted mind becomes a submitted heart which is then reflected in good speech. I'm a long, long way from where I want to be, but at least my heart is turned toward home.

Have you ever watched a baby try to pick up something fine or delicate? They struggle because their dexterity has not become refined. They have some gross motor skills, and a whole lot of good intentions toward the object of their desire, but they cannot close the deal because their little brains and bodies are not in sync yet. They will get there. One day at a time. I see our spiritual struggles the same way. At first we see the goal. It is wavering in the distance, almost seems like a mirage across the desert of the world, the flesh and the devil. That oasis of peace and righteousness that Jesus longs to seat us before. Then we start to move toward the image and the details become more refined. The goal is ever more lucid until we can smell the water, figuratively taste it on our lips. There is a sound in our ears, the voice of the Savior telling us to press on.  That's where I find myself today. First I was wrecked on the glass of the sin I committed already this morning. Then I was bandaged by grace. Now I am energized at the brook of conviction, repentance and healing. I'm back on my pilgrimage just that fast. Back on the way to growth in Jesus. Straightening my backpack with a smile!

I recently added the above picture to my prayer room. It's one I found while rummaging through the detritus of my well-intentioned life. I don't even know where it was taken, though I suspect it was a playground in Franklin, Tennessee where we lived for nearly a decade. My sons didn't know I was taking their picture. I don't know what they were talking about. Maybe a cartoon they liked, or a video game. Maybe something happening at their elementary school. What struck me hardest about the photo was their innocence. They didn't know how hard life could be. They just didn't know.

Now I look at it when I pray for them every morning. When I ask for healing and restoration. When I ask for the God of the Universe, the maker of the stars, to intervene in their circumstances. (Three concepts outlined in a song I play/pray over them.) It's heartening for me to know that He has them. That He loves them. That there is nothing that they have done or will do that will cancel that tenderness, dim that torch of passionate love. He is for them. He is FOR US! If I am going to pray, believe, ask and expect for them, I'm going to have to do better at forgiving myself and believing God still hears me. That He forgives, heals and restores ME. Being broken doesn't mean that I cannot be used, rather, it means I WILL be used to help those who feel just as shattered. Being broken means that I can feel what the lonely, the hurting and those who have no idea how they will start again are wading through. I can put my hand into that swamp and they will know I have only just brushed the moss from my own shoulders by the power of the Holy Spirit!

May God redeem the rest of this beautiful day!