The Altar

Friends' harsh words and untrue accusations they sting and cut. What good can be found here?

I struggle to find the gift, the purpose.

I reflect on words in haste years past all my own and am thankful for grace.

I unwrap the unexpected a piece at a time...the chance to lay down pride, forgive the unjustness, extend love, and find hope.

"Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends." (John 15:13)

Putting it all to death for our friends...isn't that what He showed us?

This fleshy Holy one whose feet walked the path first and we, in all our unworthiness, can stumble behind meshing out what it looks like for us in the dailys.

Days run into each other, I feel the hurt resurface and I see the grace all around me. It's there in little ones faces, hugs of grown boys, trees dancing with fresh buds, words on paper that draw deep.

We have choices as women do we not? It's bound to happen...this topsy-turvy, messy world where our sin abounds and we stammer out life one day at a time flailing in response all wrong.

We pick up pieces, brush off our excuses and justify the selfish. When we hold onto the bitter, the root embeds itself and tangles all else. Choking we cling to remnants of life because we can't see the beauty.

He knew, our Father, how it would hurt, and He made way for us to come undone.

Laid bare before the altar, we toss aside our rights, forget our pride, see our own chipped, broken selves, and there we offer up our thanksgiving.

Sweet, perfumed, drenched in tears our gratefulness comes and we cling to our Saviors feet because that is where He puts us back together. Love that we cannot produce on our own pours forth unabated, we yield and it fills.

Oh, how our Savior He fills.