burden me...

let's play a game - when i say a word what is the first thing that comes to mind?

burden

do you immediately think of a person, or situation, or heartache?
do you think of others or just yourself?

Nehemiah was the king's cupbearer - and a lot of people don't realize the responsibility and weight that position carried. it would be likened today to a Prime Minister that guides a King or a President. one funny attribute I thought though was that the cupbearer was to always have a smile on his face in the presence of the King...no matter what was going on around, famine, war, you name it, he was suppose to smile. in Nehemiah 1 and 2, we see that the cupbearer literally risked his life because the burden on his heart for God's people was so strong that he didn't smile one day when he was summoned by the King. The King in his graciousness though asked why his countenance was so downcast, and when Nehemiah explained to him his heart hurt for the people because they were dying, the King felt the burden for the people and on Nehemiah's heart and cried, and prayed and fasted for His people.

When was the last time you cried out for the state of anyone? When was the last time that you stepped out of your place of prosperity, (yes, this is America) and truly cried for the lost, the dying, the wounded? When is the last time that you asked the Lord to burden your heart for someone else?

i remember clearly as if it was yesterday that i used to pray a simple prayer that went something like this:
"Lord break my heart with the things that break yours."

i wonder why i ever stopped praying it? was it too much to bear? was i comfortable having my "own" burdens? i can't say for certain...but this i know, tonight i pray this prayer again, and wait expectantly that the Lord ignite a burden in my heart that maybe has fallen victim to self, or selfishness, and that He places a new burden in my heart that brings me to my knees for His people...and please don't ever let my smile be the masking of my heart, but a reflection.

scars...

I used to wish that I could rewrite history
I used to dream that each mistake could be erased
Then I could just pretend
I never knew me back then
I used to pray that You would take this shame away
Hide all the evidence of who I've been
But it's the memory of
The place you brought me from
That keeps me on my knees

And even though I'm free
Heal the wound but leave the scar
A reminder of how merciful You are

I don't take pride in what I bring
But I'll build an altar with
The rubble that You've found me in
And every stone will sing
Of what You can redeem

Heal the wound but leave the scar
A reminder of how merciful You are
I am broken, torn apart
Take the pieces of this heart
And heal the wound but leave the scar

Don't let me forget
Everything You've done for me
Don't let me forget
The beauty in suffering

Heal the wound but leave the scar
A reminder of how merciful You are
I am broken, torn apart
Take the pieces of this heart
And heal the wound but leave the scar

from "Heal the Wound" by Point of Grace

scars - we all have them, some are very visible, physical reminders, some are hidden to the naked eye, some reside in places only seen by our heart...
it was a rainy saturday and i was working on an art project due for my 3rd grade class; i had to finish it before spring break so we could go on vacation. i came from a very crafty family so we were all well versed in the proper use of crafting tools. I was carving something from a piece of balsa wood, with an x-acto knife...i had just put a brand new blade in the knife and had drawn out my plan of where to cut the block...i began the cut and while watching my sister across the table do something on her own project, i looked down and saw a small puddle of blood...shocked i jerked my hand back and the tip of my left fore-finger hung in a way that it just wasn't suppose to; only when i finally looked at it did it begin to throb...the blade had been so sharp that the cut itself i didn't even feel, that is until i took off the pressure of holding the piece of wood...
30 years later i still remember the doctor stitching me back together and still carry the scar and the not no normal shape of the tip of that finger. it doesn't hurt anymore but it always reminds me of the very emotion and feelings that i felt when it happened.

scars are weird like that. they remind you of the wound itself. you may not have thought of an event or a person or a situation for years, then all of a sudden for some reason the scar is brought before us...what do you choose to do with it? do we linger in the pain of that instant, as if we still carry the wound? or do you let the scar be the reminder of where you've been, of what He has carried you through, or of what still may actually be a wound that needs to be healed...

i've been grateful for my scars, the healing of the physical ones, the one on my finger, the one on my forehead, the ones i carry on my legs; but what about the deeper ones that no one else sees - is that really true? are your inner scars hidden from others or do they prevent you from being vulnerable again because you don't want to have to experience the pain that created that scar...

we all do have them, but one thing i've learned about forgiveness and scars is this - we will always carry the scars, but the day we don't allow the memory of them to rule how we live our life is when we know we have truly forgiven the hurt that caused the wound, that caused the scar...