empty vessel

bottom: the lowest or deepest part of anything, as distinguished from the top

I think I am easy to talk to. A person people turn to vent to. A good listener. I think. Or maybe everyone hears crazy tales of the horrible things that happen to people. Possibly, but I am going to venture that I am amongst the few that people turn to our think to call when they hit their bottom. I am not oh-so wise. Generally speaking I just listen. Respond a little. Let them get it out. Easy stuff. 

Yah know what? I love the bottom.

Oh the glorious bottom of our self righteously made pit. We dug that damn thing (or we where pushed into one that someone else dug), that sinful hole. The range goes from hurting, to being hurt, to hurting ourselves. We as humans love to inflict pain. And that pit is laced with pain.

In that pit there is nowhere to go. Claw the walls all you want but you aren’t getting out alone.

And I watch this. Everyone close to me, myself included, has made pit after pit. Horrible mistakes. Been in the wrong place at the wrong time. Been a victim of affliction. Decided to take the low road.  

As of recent I have been walking through a Field in the desert filled with potholes. Looking down I can see them. All these beautiful people. In their little holes. Making excuses. In a mess of their own pain. The suffering is awful. Tears never cease their flow as I watch their hearts bleed.

There are two reasons why I love it: 
-They need help from above to get out
– When they get out they are changed (I hope for the better)

You see in that pit we loose our sense of entitlement. Our pride. We seem to understand the fullness of our depravity. Coming out we have become new creatures. We understand that someone threw us a rope so we could get out, hopefully we understand that its Jesus. We get out and instantly want to tell everyone that we are free. We made it. There is hope.

But like Elijah we always walk with a limp. 
Elijah physically wrestled with the Lord. He was a great man. He loved God. But he was a man. When they wrestled God broke his hip leaving him with a limp for all to see.

My dear sweet mother asked to limp once. God had to break her. She is the strongest most amazing person I know and 10 years ago she asked for a broken and contrite heart. She received the blessing of that through years of pain. Physical and emotional. The other day she told me the full story. It broke my heart. But she is the most broken and steadfast person I know. I believe it was worth it.

So whatever your struggle, whatever your plight. There is Hope, and that hope isn’t from you. Its from our maker who makes all things new. Grab the rope.

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