False and full

I have found no better words than these to describe what lent has been doing in me thus far...

Jesus, lover of my soul

Jesus, lover of my soul, let me to Thy bosom fly,

While the nearer waters roll, while the tempest still is high.

Hide me, O my Savior, hide, till the storm of life is past;

Safe into the haven guide; O receive my soul at last.

Other refuge have I none, hangs my helpless soul on Thee;

Leave, ah! leave me not alone, still support and comfort me.

All my trust on Thee is stayed, all my help from Thee I bring;

Cover my defenseless head with the shadow of Thy wing.

Wilt Thou not regard my call? Wilt Thou not accept my prayer?

Lo! I sink, I faint, I fall—Lo! on Thee I cast my care;

Reach me out Thy gracious hand! While I of Thy strength receive,

Hoping against hope I stand, dying, and behold, I live.

Thou, O Christ, art all I want, more than all in Thee I find;

Raise the fallen, cheer the faint, heal the sick, and lead the blind.

Just and holy is Thy Name, I am all unrighteousness;

False and full of sin I am; Thou art full of truth and grace.

Plenteous grace with Thee is found, grace to cover all my sin;

Let the healing streams abound; make and keep me pure within.

Thou of life the fountain art, freely let me take of Thee;

Spring Thou up within my heart; rise to all eternity.

false and full of sin am I... let the healing streams abound

Breaking

As they approached the village to which they were going, Jesus acted as if he were going farther. But they urged him strongly, “Stay with us, for it is nearly evening: the day is almost over.” So he went in to stay with them. When he was at the table with them, he took bread, gave thanks, broke it and began to give it to them. Then their eyes were opened and they recognized him…      Luke 24:30-31

I was chopping firewood the other day and had several large pieces I had to split. There’s a trick to chopping the big ones that just bounce the axe back at you. Chop it till it starts to crack. Then, use the axe as a wedge.  Take the blunt end of a sledge and split the wood into smaller pieces. The wood makes a terrible sound. It’s the sound of the wood splintering. It’s the sound of the wood pulling apart and breaking.

That sound seems be all around me these days. It’s within me as well. It’s the painful sound of our world pulling apart and breaking. Splintering. I hear it in my own pain and in the pain of friends. We live in the breaking. You could trace that sound all the way back to a garden when a husband and wife experienced the first split. The wedge was driven between them and between them and God. It was the wedge of the fall. The division of the first rebellion. The first exposed nudity. The first shame. The first secret. The first pain. The first lie. The first insecurity. The first loss of innocence. The first death. The very first splintering…  and it is splintering still. But there was and is Jesus. And he stepped down from heaven to live in the breaking. And it crushed him until it killed him. And he came back. And he took a piece of bread and he broke it and he handed it over to them. He gave it, the same way he gave himself. And his friends said, “Oh, there you are. You’re in the breaking.” 

As I listen to the voice of the one who calls me his own, I am reminded that my brokenness does not remain under hell. It rests under heaven and He is in it. Jesus is in the breaking. And I am beginning to recognize him in my own brokenness and in the broken parts of my neighbors and my neighborhood. Because after all, only someone who’s been here before, in the breaking, would know the way back to find the rest of us.

Communion

And even with your body and your blood on my lips I can hardly think of anything other than myself...

Lord have mercy