Breaking Heart

WE were a little slow in getting Wilder to church for the first time, for many reasons: my slow recovery, wedding out of town, family in town, sleepless nights, etc. So it was really encouraging to go for the first time. When one is in survival mode, making efforts to get through the days that blend into nights, not having time to shower some days, it is hard to remember to seek the Lord's hand on your heart in those moments. What I'm saying is that, although my prayer life has increased (lots of "Help me, Lord's!"), I was feeling a little distant from my Creator, aching for communion with him. Aching for time in his love letter (the Word!). And while it doesn't take a church building to accomplish such communion, it was special to be in his house with other believers. There's a song we sang--not sure the title, or many of the lyrics--that struck a cord. This phrase: "break my heart for what breaks yours."

Um. HELLO???!???!?!? Can anyone say, "really, seriously, you want my heart to be broken for what breaks yours?" I don't think it's strong enough for that. I don't know if I'm ready to experience the sorrow you feel when someone chooses to end their life--to experience the wrenching in your heart when you see a child go hungry-- to be reminded of your anger and grief over MY own sin. 

The overwhelmingness of this desire, this REQUEST, to be broken is settling in. The magnitude of it is unfathomable. And I know, I remember full well, those times I've been burdened, broken, desperate for people and situations in my life (I can even detect the times when someone has been burdened for ME; to those of you who've been obedient to stand in the gap, thank you!). I've ached for loved ones to know the freedom I know. I've been desperate for the Holy Spirit to intervene in a situation and reveal his truth. I've longed for a friend to see all that she has to offer this dying world if only she'll let go. I've been angry that soldiers must leave their families for battle. I've been frustrated to be tangled in the web of my own sin, and in my bondage tethered to the lies Satan jabbed into my heart (he is so relentless; I hate him!).

Yet in those moments, those desperate, raw, crying moments, I've never been closer to Jesus.

Lord, break my heart for what breaks yours. Give me courage, strength, stamina, guidance as you allow me to experience some of your heartbreak. This is my plea, and while my carnality wants to pray for something less, something easier, my heart is begging to be broken.