This morning, as I was trying to pray morning prayer, I reached the end of the intentions portion, and I realized that I didn’t have the strength to pray for anything that wasn’t already scripted for me. So instead of trying to spout off the thousands of intentions I know that I should pray for, I opened my hands and my heart to God and cried out, “Father, you know the intentions of my heart even better than I do, and I don’t have the strength to pray for them myself, but I give you this empty vessel I call a heart and hope that it’ll be enough for You.”
And despite the fact that it’s a very meager gift for the King of kings, I think it was the most pleasing thing I could have given Him.
Maybe this is the mercy of God—that it is more pleasing to Him when we come to Him with empty hands and breaking hearts than when we come to Him with what we think is perfection and righteousness.
Because the reality is that we’re never going to be sinless or perfect in this life. There will always be something within us that is lacking, that needs to strive for a higher degree of perfection. It’s the price that comes with being fallen creatures in a fallen world.
And you know what? I think God prefers it that way. If we were already perfect, or if belief in God were the only necessary requirement for Heaven and it didn’t matter how we lived or sinned (a common misconception in our modern culture), then we wouldn’t need a Savior now. We would only have needed Him to die for us that one time 2,000 years ago, and we wouldn’t need Him now. We don’t still need a Savior if we’re already saved, right? Sure, we might still really love Him—after all, how can you not love someone if you truly believed that He died for you? But we wouldn’t need Him, not really.
But here’s the thing: God is a Father. And like any good father, He wants His children to need Him.
So often, I’m tempted to think that I need to pick myself up from my sin and make myself perfect before I can approach my Father’s throne. But more often than not, I can’t do that. Most of the time, when I approach that throne, I do so with empty hands. And sometimes, I have to crawl my way to that throne, because I don’t have the strength to pick myself up and walk.
And as I was praying about that this morning, you know what I heard Him speak to my heart? Well obviously you don't, so I'm about to tell you: He prefers it that way. He wants to be the one to pick us up. He doesn’t want the finished product. He wants all of us, all of our brokenness, because He wants to be the one to fix us, to make us whole.
There’s this song that I love. I want you to take a few moments to listen to it now, because I think we all need the reminder. It's called Good Good Father, click here.
Oh I’ve head a thousand stories of what they think you’re like, but I’ve heard the tender whisper of love in the dead of night, and you tell me that you’re pleased and that I’m never alone.
You’re a good, good Father, it’s who you are, it’s who you are, it’s who you are, and I’m loved by you, it’s who I am, it’s who I am, it’s who I am.
I’ve seen many searching for answers far and wide, but I know we’re all searching for answers only you provide, cause you know just what we need before we say a word.
The mercy of God lies in the fact that He loves us. Not because of who we are, but because of who He is—goodness itself.
Today, I’m thankful for my brokenness in a way that I have never been before. Because it is only when I acknowledge and embrace my brokenness that I can clearly hear that tender whisper that reminds me who I am—a daughter loved and cherished beyond belief.
