Feb 9, 2016

The Undoing of the Undone



I unravel for His glory.
I am the undone.

The undoing is the thorn that makes me shriek back, the knee jerk pulling away from the pointed ping of pain, the saving of self, which is actually the losing of self.  It is the shattering of my pride, the fraying of the person on the outside set against the person on the inside longing to be loosed yet clinging to the twine of me as it unwinds. How can one cling and reach at the same time?




I am the undone.
The hot mess.
The exasperated and striving in my own energy. The recovering people pleaser who can no longer please, not for lack of trying, but for misdirected efforts, each one like another loop unloosening.  Like a missing but active debit card that can't be traced in the mail, the potential to destroy, to drain, is that thorn -if taken at face value.

The thorn is actually the saving grace because the pulling away on one level is the drawing close on another, and this is where the unraveling gets goooood and His glory begins to shine through.  Holes are poked in the outer shell of me, the one that longs to be excellent, well - liked, valued, sought after - some idols are glittery and obvious while others masquerade as things that are good and reflect the collective hearts of many. Tears reach for the hard tile at the agony of the hole poking, yet the exposure of the holes is indeed the very thing that makes the LIGHT shine forth. IF the unraveling leads to more LIGHT, and when a heart is torn, tender and tuned into the Lord, it does, I welcome the undone. Undo me, Lord.

The undoing of the undone is the divine wash cycle of redemption, where the lost are found, the blind see, the foolish things, like single socks, are somehow used to shame the wise. It is the Lord's untangling of a snarled rat's nest because one clung too tightly to something other than Him.  Yet, in His grace, He doesn't let the mess blockade His ability to burst forth. The glorious  sun's rays aren't hindered by a delapitated shack on the horizon. The glorious son's love isn't hindered by my brokenness.

The piercing hurts, and the holes are visible but can you see Him? I unravel for His glory. I am the undone.


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