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."

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."