Lord, my soul brims. Your Word, Your beautiful Self-portrait Ripples in my heart, Makes it tremble with love for You. Fullness overflows. My words cascade. Though they can't express the loveliness I see, Nor vibrate in perfect sympathy with my heart's strings As You draw out their music. You accept my humble gift with humbler joy. You smile. You love. Should I write my heart here, Where none but a handful will ever read it? Like Mary, I will break my alabaster box, I will pour out my fragrance of love Though only a few around Your table will breathe their aroma, And some may not approve. Judas thought the anointing wasteful, Too much for Your poor body. I sorrow that it's not enough For Him who reigns in Glory. You accept my humble gift with humbler joy. You smile. You love. I have no eyes for those who frown. But I feel the warmth of tearful smiles From those who've also given You Their paltry best And felt Your blessing on it. Our Bridegroom, We rejoice to have no further need To anoint You for Your burial. With great anticipation we pour our hearts out to You For our wedding day.
Because God, in His inscrutable wisdom, has chosen to put treasure in clay pots.
I can't be a superstar, but I can be a pot.
Remember the story of Gideon, and how he and his rag-tag army took on the Midianites? Their lights were hidden in clay pots until the right moment, and then they smashed the pots to let the light shine. God then miraculously routed the enemy before them.
God has given me plenty of good hard whacks in my life, and at times I've felt like he's completely smashed me for good. Maybe one of His purposes for doing that is to let some light out.
I don't have any light of my own, but He is the light, and it's my hope that He'll shine through just a bit on these pages, "that the excellence of the power may be of God, and not of us."