I wander through the day, sometimes zoning off into the distance as I anticipate the burst of energy that will surely come. I feel zapped of strength, almost numb to what is happening around me. I’m doing too much, all good things, running around like Martha, all the while yearning to sit and be still like Mary.
This cycle of life has me living between wash, rinse and repeat.
“Wash me with the water of Your Word, Lord.”
“Remove the muck and mire that threatens to take root in my heart.”
“Give me the grace and strength for another day.”
Activity swirls around me: children and homework, work and ministry, writing and blogging, building community, pursuing passion, reaching for dreams. All of these things reflect the light of Christ in my life.
Yet the light has become dim. The fire that once burned bright in my heart is but an ember and I strive to find the flame again, the one that would draw others to Him.
I love Him. I truly do. And I strive to serve Him with passion and purpose. I want to please Him in all that I do. But in the doing, I’ve lost sight of the being. I’ve been here before. It’s a lonely place for a heart that longs to be filled with the warmth of His presence.
He beckons me come, but I don’t know how to drop everything and give myself fully to Him, as I know He desires.
How can a mamma put aside the needs of her children?
How can an employee/minister walk away from the demands of others?
How can a writer be laid down bare and surrender it all into His hands?
I’ve allowed busyness to steal my flame.
I want Him. I need Him, desperately. He is the only one who can satisfy the ache in my heart that screams, “do you see me?” “do you hear me?” “what about me?” Oh that I would not live for the praises of man, but for Him alone. For to be truly free, I must be willing to lay it all down at His feet, without ever glancing the other way. My children, my job, my ministry, my dreams to write to bring Him glory, it all must be lifted up and offered to Him with an open hand.
I’ve been holding on too tight. So tightly my light has grown dim. Is it possible to balance a flame so that it burns in more than one direction? Martha meant well, but Mary chose the better part. And this heart that runs with the passion and zeal of Martha, yearns to be like Mary, sitting at His feet, laying it all down, allowing Him to stoke the embers.
There needs to be a rearranging, a reigniting of that flame that once burned passionately and fiercely for Him. That flame has become crowded by many things, all good things. I don’t want my light to go out. I want the embers to ignite a fire so fierce that it draws others to Him.
Lord, come stoke the embers of my heart that I might burn again for you!