Forgiveness flows from the rivers of Your grace.

Am I spoiled or blessed?

Recently, I have been so fortunate. My grandparents are extremely generous with money for school and the scholarship I needed came through.

I struggle though, and have since high school, with the idea that I am spoiled.

I suppose you could use all the times my father screamed into my face those same words as the causation, but the more I heard it, the more it resonated.

Am I selfish?

Am I spoiled?

Am I worthless?

I heard it over and over again when I lived at home.

I heard it so many times I ran away.

I vividly remember the night I fled from home with nothing but my pajamas on my body and tears on my face.

I have fought through the pain from the past.

But still I am haunted by these memories.

The questions still ring in my head.

It has become hard to determine being blessed from being spoiled.

I work hard and I love on others, but in the area that surrounds my core, I am nagged with condemnation.

How much of my life is selfish?

What is my worth?

The wonderful thing about trusting in the Lord is that He determines your worth and He knows your heart.

He says I am worth more than all the lilies of the field or the animals of the sea or the birds of the air.

My heart means more to Him than anything else.

And He will protect it.

So the question may continue to loom over me, but my heart knows the answer.

I am blessed by the creator of the universe.

We are considered spoiled when He is unrecognized as the source.

My father on Earth does not reflect my Father in Heaven.

Their definitions of my life are drastically different and I know whose opinion I will rest in.

Jesus paid it all, all to him I owe.

Each compartment of my heart was filled with nauseating vomit.

With pain and heartache at each memory.

With shame and guilt.

And most of all, with condemnation.

And in the midst of an overwhelming spirit of despair, I saw a hand.

The hand wasn't to pull me out.

The hand wasn't to pat my back or rock me gently or stop my tears.

His hand was there to scoop it out.

With a single cup, one memory at a time, He replaced my evident sickness with grace.

One by one, He was scooping my pain.

He was putting His hands into the mess I had not dared to touch.

And I was so thankful as He heaved each cup full of my filth over the edge.

I watched in awe as He rid my heart of shame.

With each empty cup, I felt the burden lift.

I turned to watch as another sickening memory was lifted from my heart.

But as I watched Him throw it out, I realized where He was dumping it.

The contents of my burdened heart, the disgusting, filthy vomit of my life, was falling onto His son.

And he lay there with the weight and filth of my transgressions raining down on him.

I ran to his side. I anointed him with all my best oils and perfumes and tried as best I could to wash my disgustingness off his undeserving body.

And instead, he embraced me.

He rejoiced with me that my heart could be pure again.

White as snow.

Clean and lovely.

In You, in You I find my peace.

Every fiber of my being is aching.

Every hair on my head is reaching.

My limbs are flailing.

My heart is drumming.

I am attempting every movement to feel You.

But You just ask that I rest.

Sit.

Listen.

Obey.

And usually, that is the hardest action.

But I want You so desperately.

Everyone around me knows You so much deeper.

I'm tired of comparing.

Of being compared.

Of feeling inadequate.

Every inch from my surface to my depths longs for you.

All the things keeping me from You seem so easy to throw away as I sit.

Here.

In this warm bed.

In this safe room.

But when I start into the real world, my heart always changes.

I am consumed by busyness, by stagnancy, by pain, by discomfort, by frustration.

And these all-consuming implications rip my heart from You.

But You ask that I just rest.

And in the stagnancy, busyness, pain, discomfort, frustration, You ask that I rest.

You offer a peace I have not learned to take, but I want it.

I want to live in it.

I want to pour it out on others so that they can know You.

But perhaps that is why I know no peace.

Because I am always looking for the next task.

For the next thing to keep me moving.

But You ask that I just rest.

Today, Lord, help me find a peace in the daily grind.

Help me rest in You.

I want to yearn for You.

Fill my heart with Your presence.

I want my wandering thoughts to trace back to You.

Flood this sinful spirit with grace and mercy from above.

Let my days be lived for Your light alone.

You are all I long for.