These Broken Vessels 2 Corinthians 4:7 "But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us."

So many dreams, hopes, plans, desires.
I cry out, "Here I am Lord! Send me! Use me! I yearn to lead an Extraordinary Life for You, a life full; a life whose each and every breath screams with purpose and meaning. I will proclaim Your Name to the nations; wherever You send, there I will go; whatever You ask, that I will do. I will write a book. I will teach the multitudes. I will sing to crowds. I will live Hugely and make a Difference! For You. For You."
But.
You speak to me gently. Tenderly. In a whisper. You nudge my heart softly. Didn't King David have grand plans too? His passion and love for You also planted a hunger in his soul. He cried out, "Here I am, living in a palace while You dwell in a meager tent. This should not be so! I will build a house for You!!!"
So many dreams, hopes, plans, desires...to which You said, "No."
No?
No.
For this house building was David's plan, not Your plan. A good plan, a noble plan, borne of good intentions, perhaps, but his plan for You rather than Your plan for him.
You replied, "Are you the one who should build Me a house to dwell in?" (2 Samuel 7:5)

So eager am I to live Big for You, to live bravely, to take risks, to do the Incredible; the Unbelievable; the Impossible; the Extraordinary; Your glory shining through my broken vessel, a luminous beam in this murky world; Your power and sovereignty directing and moving
marionette-me to conquer the universe.
But.
I hear You whisper, "You told me that you would go wherever I sent, and do whatever I asked. Do these destinations and works not include the mundane? The everyday? The ordinary? A life of humility? Every. Moment. Is. Sacred."
Your gentle murmurings, love sighs that pierce my heart.

For, if I am soul-searchingly honest, I fear journeying this holy path to earthly life's end and realizing that my time on earth had no purpose, that my service to You, my Lord, was not Extraordinary or Tremendous.
That I...
I...
I...
did not change The World.
That I...
I...
I...
did not do Big Things.
That You, oh Lord, did not use Me...
Me...
Me...
in Enormous Ways.
What self-worship! What vanity! What faulty focus! Who is the subject of these desires?
For if I am willing to go anywhere and do anything...for You...I must also be willing to stay in my normal Everyday and journey through an Ordinary Existence if that is what You desire. For each life and every work appointed by You is anything but mundane and common. It is all divine and sacred; incredible and impossible; enormous and beautiful.

We are Masterpieces, knit together in wombs knit together by the world's Creator...Holy to the Lord.
We are redeemed by the red riches of Christ's blood...Holy to the Lord
We are breathing Temples, Holy Spirit Homes...Holy to the Lord.
We are Royal Sons and Daughters...Holy to the Lord.
Each life in its entirety is composed of a pathway of singular moments, a trail of holy bread crumbs strewn by the hand of God.
Every. Moment. Is. Sacred.
No sweeter life could exist than one in which the glory of the Lord is beheld in the ordinary.
This is Extraordinary.

God, Sculptor of the very life in whom He hollowed out a space for His might made tiny.
The God-Baby ripened in His mother's womb.
The mother He had formed.
The mother whose days He had ordained.
The God-Baby grew until the time was right and the mother's flesh howled, "Now!"
With much trembling and water and blood, He burst forth to greet the very air and earth that He had spoken into existence.
Life.
This God-Baby, our King.
Our Savior.
Cradling of a mother's arms. Kisses. Whispers and words of tender love.
And the God-Baby flourished into the God-Man whose love, tender and fierce, compelled Him to travel unswervingly the road to a cross.
More trembling and water and blood.
And the God-Man burst forth from life to death.
Yet, not death, but life.
Life.
Life.
Life eternal for those whom He had hewn and painted with His palette.
Life eternal for those whose heart cry resounds, "I believe!"
There is only grace here.

David, son of Jesse: shepherd boy, writer, musician, warrior, king, sinner, worshiper of the one true God. A house for his Creator he wanted to build, a love-gift for his Lord.
     "No," the Lord said. For He had other plans.
God, out of love for His people and His David, desired to make a covenant with David, a covenant that had already been made with Abraham.
     "David," said the Lord, "You will not build a house for me, but I will build a house for you. A dynasty. Jesus, the Savior of the world, will come from your line. His unending kingdom through you. His throne through you. You. Your throne established forever, paving the way for His royal Throne of thrones. Through you. Do you see?"

Undone David. Did he see? Run through with the spear of God's holy love, he saw with his heart. Cleaved in two by awe overwhelming. Incredulous humility. "Then David the king went in and sat before the Lord, and he said, 'Who am I, O Lord God, and what is my house, that You have brought me this far?'" (2 Samuel 7:18) 

     "Who am I?"
Searching back through the days of his life, bewildered. From keeper of sheep to father of the coming Messiah?
     "This far...how did You bring me this far?" A response of reverence and thanksgiving, bone deep. This far.

I've been pondering my "this fars" for the last couple of days; mulling them over, tasting them, weighing them in my soul, pricking my finger on their sharp points and nestling into their pliable curves; taking some time to know them intimately. "Who am I that You have brought me this far?"
This far.
This far.
For, when I flip backwards through the pages of my life, I can hardly recognize who I once was, where I once was, for what I once lived and breathed. Who was I, and who am I now? This far... My present abounds with "this fars," teems with "this fars" that practically seem to be made of bones, sinew, and blood, so real and alive are they to me. Out of all of my "this fars," however, one sings to me with a clearer and sweeter melody than that of the rest; a pure tone; a true message.

Memories faint and fuzzy. A small girl surrounded by Jesus followers; Jesus lovers; children of the King who were sold out; a mother and father who inhaled the Word of God as if it were the cleanest of air being funneled to a body sinking in the depths of the sea. The little girl loved Jesus...but she wanted to love Him more. So she prayed for a deeper intimacy with this God who had consumed her loved ones.

The little girl grew to be a half-woman. She followed Jesus and obeyed the rules that made sense. She loved Jesus, but she kind of loved the world too. And, though the world enticed her down this path and that, the Holy Spirit was firmly rooted in her heart. The half-woman loved Jesus...but she wanted to love Him more. So she prayed for a deeper intimacy with this God who changes names and lives.

The half-woman grew into a young woman, consecrated to her Lord. She served Him, prayed to Him, daily read her Bible, loved Him. And yet, she longed to have a relationship with God that was as real to her as the skin covering her bones and muscles. She yearned to desire after her Bible like a man near starvation hungers for food; like a woman with parched tongue craves a drop of cool water. The young woman loved Jesus...but she wanted to love Him more. So she prayed for a deeper intimacy with this God who reveals Himself through the scriptures that He composed.

The young woman grew into a woman full and, on that journey, her God led her through land treacherous and imposing: valleys deep, deserts dry, mountains steep, wildernesses forlorn. She bloodied her fingers as she clawed her way out of those valleys. She panted with desperation at the scarcity of water in those deserts. She scaled the cliffs of those mountains, clinging to outcroppings at times with one lone finger. She curled up into a ball and wept in those wildernesses, wept until she was dry.
     "Where are you, God?" she whispered in voice dusty and cracked.
     "I am here," was the reply. "I have always been here."
     "Then why? Why all of this?"
     "Throughout your whole life you have prayed sincerely and urgently, asking to love Me more, to know Me more deeply, and to have a more intimate relationship with Me. I know you, and I know what path you have needed to travel in order to finally enter into that relationship with me that you have so desired. I have brought you this far."

And so...here I am. Undone. Overwhelmed with gratitude and awe. For the God whom I have always loved and served is finally as real to me as my very breath. He is my Anchor and my Shield, the Provider of all of my needs. I hunger and thirst for Him as I do for no other; my appetite is insatiable. I am not the girl I once was, dwelling in a cramped box, living for tidbits and morsels.
     "Who am I, O Lord God, that You have brought me this far?"
I praise Your Name!
I praise Your Name!
And, Lord willing...who am I, O Lord God, that you will continue to guide me, challenge me, nudge me oh so tenderly, and lead me through more brambles and thickets entangling...all to perfect my faith and deepen ever more my love for You?
Who am I, O Lord God, that You will bring me even farther?

Ephesians 3:16-19
"...that He would grant you, according to the riches of His glory, to be strengthened with power through His Spirit in the inner man, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith; and that you, being rooted and grounded in love, may be able to comprehend with all the saints what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ which surpasses knowledge, that you may be filled up to all the fullness of God."