It’s Easier To Be Broken

O you who shake the heavens, come and shake my thoughts.
O you who move the mountains, come and move my mind.
O you who calm the storm, come and calm my fears.

I’ve come to realize that it is much easier to believe God for external healing than internal healing. Or to believe that God will breakthrough in a certain situation externally, but to have less faith for an internal situation or problem being solved.
In short, it’s easier to move mountains when they have rocks and trees, but much harder to move the mountains in our minds.
It’s easier to read about God calming the storm made of wind and rain, but much harder to believe that he will calm the storm made of doubt and fear.
As humans, we like to touch things, we like to see things, to feel things.
If I can touch something broken, then I can believe for it to be made whole.
But the things I can’t touch, the things I can’t see?
How can I have the faith for them to be made whole?
Broken thought patterns, damaging lies, emotional ruins, pervasive fears, comforting doubts…the list goes on and on.

I’m scared.
Scared, to be honest with you.
I’m scared that these things won’t change.
That I’ll continue to fight these thoughts.
That I’ll continue to struggle against these mountains within my mind.
That I’ll continue to battle these fortresses in my soul.
Will they fall?
It’s so hard to have faith for something you don’t see.
For lies are deeply woven roots, and thoughts are clouds that keep you from seeing clearly.
How do I have faith for these things to be broken off?
How do I have faith for such a healing?

More than anything, though, I desire it.
Once you begin to taste freedom, you need more and more every day.
Once you begin to breathe free air, your lungs’ capacity only grows with each breath, and your expectancy for more drives you into wild pursuit.
But still, even so, I fear that healing.
I fear its process.
I fear the pain that comes with pulling out such deep roots.
And more than that, I fear sometimes that they might not get pulled.
I fear that they might remain.
I fear that direction will never come, that clarity will continue to escape my senses, and that surety will always be a distant dream.
These are my mountains.
These are my storms.

For one moment of honesty I will tell you that sometimes my head hurts physically with how much I can think about one fear of mine, over and over again.
Sometimes I get so lost in my doubts that I begin to doubt everything.
I doubt change.
I doubt the future.
I doubt me.
I doubt God.
Like a broken record player I continue to dance around the same song over and over again, until all I know are the worries that I’ve come to make my friends.
Oh, but what terrible friends they are.
How I wish that they would leave.
For they make me doubt my feelings, they make me fear myself, they make me overreact to every situation that I can’t control.
They tell me I can’t do it.
That I’ll never feel the right way.
That I can’t be strong enough.
That I’ll never be spiritual enough.
That I’ll never get direction.
That I’ll never be content.
That I’ll never be sure.
That I’ll always be scared.
That I’ll never see my dreams fulfilled.
That I’ll never become anything more than mediocre.

But these are lies, this I know.
But it’s one thing to recognize a foe, and another thing to kill him.
And I know that I simply have to trust.
That I simply must surrender.
Again, and again.

As I lay on the floor of the Living Room last night, letting the truth of the words being sung wash over me, I realized how much soul healing I am need of. But a question came as soon as the revelation came.
“Will you let me heal you?”
Will I?
See, I’ve gotten used to living in this broken soul. I’m used to thinking in this crippled mind, I’m used to feeling these distorted emotions.
Confusion I know, Confidence is but an acquaintance.
“Do you want to know it?”
Do I?
And as I lay there, for one brilliant moment of struggle and worship I felt the immense peace of God come upon me, and I felt safe in his arms.
“You can trust me.”
I can trust him.
And so here I am, offering this collection of broken thoughts and scattered feelings, a mess of confusion and pain.
It’s yours, God.
Take it.
I’ve said this prayer a thousand times before.
I’ll say it a thousand more.
Take it Father.
I want your inheritance.
And confidence is mine.
Courage is mine.
Surety is mine.
Peace is mine.
Joy is mine.
Contentment is mine.
Hope is mine.
Love is mine.
He is mine.
And I am his.
What a beautiful exchange.

O you who shake the heavens, come and shake my thoughts.
O you who move the mountains, come and move my mind.
O you who calm the storm, come and calm my fears.

O you who love the lost, come and love me.

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