I’ll never forget that night as I kneeled on the floor in my room. It was dark. The blinds were closed, covering the large window that took over the main wall in my room that was as big as a box.
I was living my dream.
I was finally a New York City girl… but there I was, on my knees, floating in my 14th floor room in graduate school housing. Tears ran down my cheeks as I cried out to the only One who was listening.
Several months passed, and there I found myself again, but this time in the suburbs of Houston. On my knees, on the floor, near my bed, in a room that had held so many years of memories. A room that was my safe haven from my teenage years until now. My face on the floor and still my tears flowed. So many nights, just like that one. Just me and Him.
Years passed and there I was again, on my knees on the floor, in a dark room. This time in India. For a few months I experienced a loneliness I’d never lived through before. So great a loneliness that I grew in such intimacy with the only One who never left my side.
As I reflect on the recent years of life, I wonder, What has marked my time on this earth? It’d be these countless nights crying out to the Lord in brokenness and in humility, enjoying Him, in the secret of His presence.
Problems and pride arise when I start living as if real and raw time with Him is optional. Well, it is optional, but it is the best option, and truly, should be my only option.
Do I settle for a picture perfect “quiet time” with Him when really my heart is desperately needing to be undone in His presence?
Do I try to figure out messy, broken situations, which reek of sin on my own instead of humbly pleading with the Lord for His salvation to be accepted by ignorant hearts?
Do I think that the tears of my heart are not worthy to be poured out on His feet, but instead bottled up and kept away?
It’s a relief to know that He is near to us in our brokenness. And He delights in our contrite spirits. It’s good when we admit that we are guilty of trying to run our own lives. He sees that as good. He loves that.
The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; a broken and a contrite heart, O God, You will not despise. | Psalm 51:17