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Have you ever experienced a moment of realization during prayer or journaling?
Where I do not have control of my pen.
So today, in a moment of vulnerability and obedience, I’m sharing my prayer journal entry.
It all started because I was feeling so frustrated with myself–my diet has been horrible, I’m not getting enough sleep, I’m procrastinating, I’m burnt out with homeschooling, I’m yelling at my kids and quite frankly, I’ve not been having quiet time with the Lord.
I’m desperate for a savior, you guys. Like–I literally cannot do this on my own.
Believe me, I’ve tried.
I cried out to the Lord–and he spoke to me and provided me with such clarity about WHY I’ve been striving in my own strength. He assured me he hasn’t given up on me.
Then He told me–“Now go and tell them.”
Ok, Lord–I hear you.
So here it is…word for word–my prayer is that you will be spoken to in a fresh new way.
A Prayer of Desperation:
“Father, What do I do when you feel far away? When I’ve let go of your lifeline and slipped too far down on my tether?
Now I am once again facing an uphill climb.
The long assent back to where I already was.
My yo-yo faith.
Father, break me–once and for all. Break me in such a way that that I will never again be stupid enough to think that I can do it in my own strength.
It all feels so impossible, really–how can I ever break these old habits?
bad friend–greedy girl–unqualified
The old comfortable, familiar insults come bubbling up to the surface; from the dark place I hid them the last time I slipped.
Isn’t it strange how even though I know it’s going to hurt in a way that never stops hurting–I still go back–looking for comfort?
A broken women–trying to put herself back together.
What’s the difference between this broken feeling I have right now and wanting God to break me?
One way says, “You’re broken. Let’s put you together and break you again”
A circular hell that never ends.
The other broken–the kind that I crave–is a gentle knowing that I am shattered. God knows where each piece is. He knows, sees, and cherishes each and every bit of my broken-down self.
He says, “Don’t worry, Ally–you don’t have to hold it all together–that’s my job.”
A sweet reminder from my steadfast Savior.
Our enemy is so clever though–he uses our human-ness against us. The need for independence and the desire to be “strong enough.”
The enemy uses these urges to convince me that I can do it on my own.
I am too smart to be tricked again.
But here I sit in my broken circular hell.
I begin the crawl back to Jesus–head down and weak in my fake-strength.
He knows–He has seen–and all along He has been waiting by my side.
Not waiting for me to fail but waiting for me to admit that I am going to keep failing because without Christ in the equation, I am always going to just start the cycle over again in my own strength.
And just like the nature of a circle, I will always end up exactly where I started.
That surly cannot be the plan for my life–“