I Break Easily

I don't mean to say that I fold under pressure. Actually, I'm normally at my best when the pressure's high. Give me a difficult task and set an impossible deadline and I'll probably knock your socks off. I love that stuff. Not all the time, mind you, but in small doses it's wonderful - gets the blood pumping.

I'm certainly not one of those people who bounces back and forth between two sides of an argument. You know the type I'm talking about. They take a stand on an issue, but then someone hits them with a solid argument and they fold. I don't compromise my beliefs. I love listening to other arguments. I love people who challenge what I believe. Hey, if what I believe can't stand up to the challenges, then it wouldn't be worth believing.

I do find ways of getting odd injuries while participating in physical activities. Whether it's backyard football, dancing at a wedding or playing an indoor basketball game with a bunch of jr. highers - I can certainly find a way to hurt myself. It's irritating, really. But that's not what I mean either.

I break easy, because I have a broken heart.

It's not from lost love. I'm married to the most wonderful woman on the planet. Really. Truly. You think you got better? No way, dude.

It's not from the death of someone close to me. My parents are still alive. I've never attended the funeral of a close friend. The closest person to me I've ever seen buried was my stepfather, Tom. I miss him. I love him. I'll see him again. It's cool.

What it comes right down to is I am accutely aware of who God is and how he works. He has broken me. Broken me and reformed me. Time and again. And he's not done.

I love seeing him work in others' lives as well. That's what really gets me. The differences in the people who have surrendered. Their stories are awesome. What do Brian "Head" Welch, Colt McCoy, and Anne Rice have in common?

Not much. Besides Jesus.

I like it when he reminds my to check my pride and ability at the door. He's enough, always. I even like it when he humbles me. (Which is more often than I care to admit.) It's all part of the breaking. And it's beautiful.

I find as the years walk on, I break easier and easier. It's perfect, because when I am weak, he is strong.

My sacrifice, O God, is a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart you, God, will not despise. Psalm 51:17