Because I need to know.
Because sometimes, I need to feel overwhelmed, and not turn my eyes away from the chaos and confusion, turmoil and trauma, just because it’s easier. More comfortable.
Comfort. What a low goal to live for.
Maybe I need to be made a little bit uncomfortable, or a lotta bit. And not by carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders, but by carrying it to the One who made it all, and carries it all, anyway. But maybe, maybe He makes me, the made, the creation, to be uncomfortable, prodded and pricked, to bring it to Him—bring Him the hurt, the wailing of my soul that breaks out when I dare not turn away, when I look wide-eyed on suffering, on injustice, on violence and hunger and desperate need. He knows. He knows it all. He need not be made aware. But maybe I, I am the one who needs to know. Maybe I am the one who needs to know, because I am the one who needs changing. I am the one who needs to be spurred on to action, not because I have anything to offer in and of myself as a solution, but because the Maker has chosen the made, His molded earthen vessels, fragile and composed of dust, of clay, to move. To be His Hands and Feet. To pour out His grace and mercy on those in need, and show it that much more powerful by allowing it to come through such unlikely sources.
We, these vessels—I, this vessel—have not been made to sit pretty on a shelf. We are made to carry hurt and dirt to the One who can heal, the One who can clean, the One who can make it beautiful.
Will you ask yourself with me today, “Will I open my eyes to what is going on around me? Will I allow myself to be spurred on to action?” What can the Maker accomplish through the mades, the underdogs—who have been broken and bruised ourselves—who are willing to jump off the shelf and be the vessel He pours through to reach the needy and bleeding and hungry and torn? My guess is, a lot. Being made a little bit—or a lotta bit—uncomfortable—will yield eternal results far more valuable than our temporary comfort. And not just for us, but for those who have been ushered into the kingdom, brought to the feet of Jesus, to drink from His cup—because a couple of ragamuffin clay pots were willing to get up off their bottoms, be placed in His hands, and poured through. And He, the Maker, will be all the more delighted, and glorified for it.
“For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me will find it.” Matthew 16:25, NIV
To Him Who is Worthy, let us be poured out.