I thought I knew brokenness.
I thought that there was nothing left to surrender,
nothing more between You and me.
You have taken every avenue of security from me,
bringing me gently but persistently
to the place of the Cross time and time over.
All my plans, all my hopes,
all my basic expectations of life lie there,
among the ruins of Golgotha.
Dead, buried, before Your greater wisdom,
painful but willing sacrifices to your Sovereign love.
I considered that the cost
had been carefully weighted
and acknowledged between You and me.
I was not as one unaware or
ignorant of Your ways.
When was it I heard
the subtle whisperings of our enemy
that this agreement between You and I
For You never told me you would not dig deeper.
You never spoke the words that
Your fullness would come at an agreed price.
You spoke truth to me..….
That to walk Your path would cost me everything.
You said it would be lonely, for the path is narrow.
You said it would involve a yoke –
even though light, a yoke nonetheless.
You said if I would be faithful,
I would enter into Your joy.
You promised me trial, tribulation,
betrayal and persecution,
and I embraced even those.
You told me to follow You
would mean a cross for my shoulders,
but You also told me
You would never leave me or forsake me,
and that nothing would separate us.
You’ve been faithful to Your Word always,
working the Cross in my life
at the same time as You’ve worked
Your love and will in my life.
Not always with my understanding or compliance,
but always providing sufficient grace for the hour.
Always waiting for my final consent
and surrender to the life of brokenness,
as you tenderly but consistently
conform me to the image of the Son.
Now, as His very nature begins to unfold in me,
at last the revelation comes.
There is no final place of brokenness.
There are only levels of brokenness.
The greatest enemy
to Your work of brokenness in my life is me.
It’s I who stands in opposition
to your tools of circumcision.
It’s my own flesh that rises up
against the increasing revelation of who You are,
and who You would have me be in You.
So here I am before You again, my God…..
Broken, but sensing Your desire
to break me yet more deeply.
Helpless, yet aware of my need
to become still more helpless before you.
Vulnerable, yet again laying bare my heart
to your firm, sure Hand.
Surrendering all, yet not knowing
if all is yet surrendered.
If You choose to pour me out like water, Lord,
then fill me again
with your ever increasing fullness.
Brokenness means suffering.
Brokenness is the Cross.
But the sweetness of your fellowship there
can be found in no other place I know.
Oh God, I yield. Do what you will, Lord.. .…
I must have more of You.
Lord, come, I thirst……
“I am poured out like water, and all my bones are out of joint;
my heart is like wax; it has melted within me,
my strength is dried up like a potsherd, and my tongue clings
to my jaws, you have brought me to the dust of death.”
“And He, bearing His Cross,
went out to a place called the place of a skull,
which is called in Hebrew, Golgotha,
where they crucified Him……”
Ó Copyright Cheryl McGrath and Great South Land Ministries, 2001. May be copied and distributed freely without change or omission and with copyright notice intact.
Categories: The Cross