There once was a little girl, a sensitive little one, filled with dreams of loving and being loved. Though she was too young to know how to put these feelings into words. As a very little girl, still a toddler, she sailed off to a faraway land with her missionary parents. A land filled with gentle and thoughtful people.
There, as a small child of four, or maybe five, she responded to the Greatest Love, and by herself, on her own, asked for this Love to come live in her heart. And He did - and He carried her through all the drama of childhood, even with the additional challenges of living in a foreign land.
When this little girl became a young woman, she returned to the land of her birth, and learned to live, again, in a land that was foreign to her. It was new and strange to her, and He carried her through all the joys and drama of her college and young adult years, and of meeting the most patient, loving man she could have dreamed of. And through their years they were blessed beyond measure with one, then two, three, four, and even five and six precious children. Life was full, overflowing with love and joy.
Then unannounced and unexpected, some storm clouds began to form. The winds picked up strength, and nearly blew her apart. A broken relationship with a child - first one, and then another one. Then a life-threatening illness, then a devastating accident. Winds that were allowed by her Creator and Greatest Love, winds that caused her to depend on Him more than she had ever needed before. And it was painfully hard, and it was good.
It was so hard that it almost destroyed her tender, loving heart. And it was so good because those trials revealed her prideful, self-sufficient heart. For somewhere along the way, she had acquired a spirit of control, of thinking that she could manage quite well, thank you. And that maybe she even knew better than others how children should be raised, how a person should follow God.
Pride is the worst kind of thing. It creeps in so quietly and in such a subtle way; she was not even aware of it's arrival. But it was there. And by the grace and mercy of her loving Father and God, He gently, yet clearly, led her (together with her sweet husband) to a place of brokenness, a place where she was in need. And a place where she could be filled. With His Love. With His Grace. Emptied, to be filled with the best that one could even dream of.
And now her days are filled with freedom. There have been relationships restored a hundred-fold. And though there continue to be winds of trials and problems, and there are prayers and concerns that bring her to her knees every single day, she has learned and is learning - that all is well. She is continually in need, and she is continually filled to overflowing.
For I have learned, and I am learning that it is all about God, and not about me. That I am as much in need, and maybe more in need of a Savior than those who have lived wayward lives, far from God. For I need to be rescued from pride, self-righteousness, and self-centeredness; I need to be rescued from myself. And it is by His Grace, Mercy, and Love, that I am able to live and breathe, to love and be loved.
As each year goes by, these words I have shared here are etched deeper and deeper into my heart. I am more flawed in myself than I ever dared believe, and I am more loved than I ever hoped for. Thank You, Jesus ... my Savior.
Sharing with my readers, and with Bonnie, a blogger friend, who has asked us to write on the topic: "What I'm Learning About Myself".
As the years go by,
what are you learning about yourself?
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