Ugliness. That is how my attitude has been recently; flat out ugly and spewing filth without much effort. It doesn't take much. To be honest, it is aimed in one direction and I feel it boiling up, but haven't tried to keep the lava inside the mountain. I just let it rip and then I feel bad.
What is the solution? Like an earthquake fault, I keep swallowing the frustration and then I just rumble. I know that so much of the rumblings is due to being tired of the "trial" that we have lived in for so long. But did Paul rumble when he was tired of the trials he under went? I don't think so! He was in jail and sang. He was ship wrecked and joyfully built the fire. He had trials that normal people like me don't encounter and I don't see much complaining on his part. He knew how to be content in all things. What about me? Why can't I be content and sing in this jail? Why don't I let the earthquake I feel rumble under my chest, shake the chains from my heart and the locks on the gates, so that I can live in contented freedom, no matter what and whom I am living with.
I think humility is what Paul had that I lack. I think he had literally seen the Lord and knew how to keep his eyes on the Author and Finisher of his faith. I think that his humility came because he saw the Lord and saw himself as the most wretched of sinners and didn't have a problem admitting this to anyone. He was transparent and vulnerable and used by God.
I bubble up and words come spewing and then shame overwhelms. At least I know the Holy Spirit is doing His job; I sense His promptings even before the ugly comes flying out. If only there was gaffers tape to cover the lips. But the lips speak what is in the heart and there in lies the problem. I do what I do not want to do. I think what I do not want to think. I feel what I do not want to feel. Oh wretched girl that I am.
There are so many things bombarding me these days and all I can do is hang on for dear life. Hang on to "The Dear Life" to help me. Thank you Jesus that you don't walk away when my lava flows. When the earthquake in my heart shakes and steam pours out. You see it before it even reaches the surface and somehow, some way you love me just the same. You will change this ugliness into something beautiful. Only You can take a broken pot and make it a glorious work of art, ugliness turned into beauty, vileness polished to a crystal pure shine, and an alabaster jar to be used by the Master, even in her unfinished raw form.
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