Oh God,

I thought I knew brokenness.

I thought that there was nothing left to surrender,

nothing more between You and me.

You have taken every avenue of security from me,

bringing me gently but persistently

to the place of the Cross time and time over.

All my plans, all my hopes,

all my basic expectations of life lie there,

among the ruins of Golgotha.

Dead, buried, before Your greater wisdom,

painful but willing sacrifices to your Sovereign love.

Oh God,

I considered that the cost

had been carefully weighted

and acknowledged between You and me.

After all,

I was not as one unaware or

ignorant of Your ways.

When was it I heard

the subtle whisperings of our enemy

that this agreement between You and I

had limitations?

For You never told me you would not dig deeper.

You never spoke the words that

Your fullness would come at an agreed price.

You spoke truth to me....

That to walk Your path would cost me everything.

You said it would be lonely, for the path is narrow.

You said it would involve a yoke

even though light, a yoke nonetheless.

You said if I would be faithful,

I would enter into Your joy.

You promised me trial, tribulation,

betrayal and persecution,

and I embraced even those.

You told me to follow You

would mean a cross for my shoulders,

but You also told me

You would never leave me or forsake me,

and that nothing would separate us.

Oh God,

You've been faithful to Your Word always,

working the Cross in my life

at the same time as You've worked

Your love and will in my life.

Not always with my understanding or compliance,

but always providing sufficient grace for the hour.

Always waiting for my final consent

and surrender to the life of brokenness,

as you tenderly but consistently

conform me to the image of the Son.

Now, as His very nature begins to unfold in me,

at last the revelation comes.

There is no final place of brokenness.

There are only levels of brokenness.

The greatest enemy

to Your work of brokenness in my life is me.

It's I who stands in opposition

to your tools of circumcision.

It's my own flesh that rises up

against the increasing revelation of who You are,

and who You would have me be in You.

So here I am before You again, my God....

Broken, but sensing Your desire

to break me yet more deeply.

Helpless, yet aware of my need

to become still more helpless before you.

Vulnerable, yet again laying bare my heart

to your firm, sure Hand.

Surrendering all, yet not knowing

if all is yet surrendered.

If You choose to pour me out like water, Lord,

then fill me again

with your ever increasing fullness.

Brokenness means suffering.

Brokenness is the Cross.

But the sweetness of your fellowship there

can be found in no other place I know of.

Oh God, I yield. Do what you will, Lord....

I must have more of You.

Lord, come, I thirst......

"I am poured out like water, and all my bones are out of joint; my heart is like wax; it has melted within me, my strength is dried up like a potsherd, and my tongue clingsto my jaws, you have brought me to the dust of death." Ps. 22:14,15

"And He, bearing His Cross, went out to a place called the place of a skull, which is called in Hebrew, Golgotha, where they crucified Him......" John 19:17,18