Broken.

I’m sitting here at 33,000 feet, trying desperately to find words to convey the meaning of that term.

Broken. Brokenness…

And the blank page is staring me in the face. Telling me, in un-mistakable terms, that it is the very explanation I am seeking.

A blank page. Emptiness. Nothingness.

I crave this.

To be so thoroughly emptied of self, that absolutely none of it remains. 

Why?

“Just as soon as we present our emptied nature to the Lord Jesus and His cause, He will supply the vacuum by His Holy Spirit. We can then believe He will give us of His fullness. He does not want us to perish. We do not want more of God any more urgently than He wants all that there is of us to be consecrated to His service. . . .”  --In Heavenly Places, pg. 155.

Oh, what can I say?

The words of the song playing in my ears: ‘Take my life, and let it be consecrated Lord to Thee…’

Behold Him. On the cross.

Broken.

Fix your gaze on that Man. The Man who became broken. So we could be filled.

Oh, don’t take your gaze away! Rely on Him. Lean on Him. Make Him first, last and best in everything.

The universe looks on.

Oh when will they get it?

Today, we have the privilege of being broken. Today, we must choose.

Broken, or not?