Tag Archives: trials

Wreck Me, God.

God is wrecking me right now.

Utterly and completely.

He’s taking me to new heights of my relationship with Him – new, unknown, uncharted territories of grace to my heart.

One of my favorite authors/bloggers Jen Hatmaker said something I won’t soon forget.

In her book ‘Interrupted’, she says something along-the-lines-of: pray this prayer “God, wreck me”. But only if you mean it.


Because prayers are a big deal to God.

wreck me

He kind of takes us seriously.

So I’m grateful for God’s providence that I didn’t stumble upon ‘Interrupted’ until recently.

My heart simply wouldn’t have been able to handle the content, and certainly not that prayer.

So, I’ve been praying that…for the wrecking.

And boy, has He ever!

It’s not a shaming, not a wrecking in the sense the world might think, like a disgracing.

Rather, it’s a pruning, a chiseling, a growing-more-in-His-likeness.

I’ll be the first to admit: I’m not perfect.

People, I am SO far from it, it’s not even funny.

And yet, here I am. For some reason beyond my greatest comprehension, God wants to use me.


Go figure.

Little ol’ me. The girl with a big mouth, lots of opinions and a way of telling the truth that has left many stung in the wake of brutality.

Not always pretty.

So this wrecking I’ve been praying (begging God for, really), is a acknowledgement that I don’t even know anything about anything.

That my heart needs to break for the things that break His.

And try as I might to appear as if I have it all together , I don’t.

He knows it. I know it.

Oh, what a Savior! That He would take me as I am. Quite literally trying to take His place by asserting myself to be more than I am.

Oh, that He loves me, broken and all kinds of messed-up.

Thank you, Jesus.

So, God’s been wrecking me.

Faithful to His character, as He cannot be anything but, God is doing the work of wrecking in this heart of mine.

It’s painful. It leaves me worn-down, tried and head spinnng most days (I know – where can you sign up, right?).

It’s so challenging to be wrecked.

And it’s the most beautiful thing all at the same time.

God is doing a spiritual heart surgery on me, in this state of wondering that I’m in.

He’s longing to do a new work in me, and I’m so thankful He is.

Oh, how I need for HIm to increase and me to decrease!

When God prunes (more on that later, but essentially the idea of the first portion of John 15), he throws off what isn’t beneficial to the believer.

So, whatever needs work, He gently removes. Cleans up with His pure and sinless hands and He does the work of making us more into the likeness of Himself.

More grace-filled.

More loving.

He then gives us opportunities (read: challenging circumstances) to grow in these areas.

For me this last month?

Pruning has looked like having opportunities to easily promote myself and letting God keep me quiet.

Pruning has looked like others getting credit for things I’ve done (again, hard for me).

Pruning has looked like a teething baby.

Puking children.

Martial tension.

Being misunderstood.

A flooded crawl space.

A broken dishwasher.

You get the picture.

And in all this, what I am not saying is that this is somehow unfair. Somehow cruel on God’s part.

What I am saying is that wrecking hurts. It tears you down.

But, oh! How I long for the refining, ever painful as it is.

Wreck me, God.

There is a song that is just SO my heart right now called “Relentless Pursuit” by Kim Walker. I hope you guys will take a minute to listen and let the lyrics wash over you.

Through Unspeakable Joy,



Aren’t You Tired?


Currently, my eyes are heavy. Like, squinty-heavy. Wishing, hoping for a nap but I honestly don’t think that’s in the cards for me today.

My cup of coffee is sitting here next to me, almost begrudgingly because, dangit! I wasn’t going to have coffee today. I was going to be awake. Strong. Show that coffee pot who’s boss…

I had to smile that recently I’ve gladly poured my International Delight into my morning cup. That vanilla creamer so sickeningly sweet, void of dairy. Yes. No milk to be found. Surely, this creamer is eating my insides and is not exactly the “natural” avenue I intended to go. Never-the-less, it makes my coffee sweet. Enjoyable. And, really? It’s cheaper.

With whiny children in the background and my coffee brewing in the chill of the morning air, I thought about you.

The mom doing the same thing I am today. Trying to get on top of the laundry pile, love and train your kids. Hopefully without killing anyone in the process.

The dad that never gets a mention because his wife is working, or maybe even left him, and he’s got the same chores and concerns that are on my heart today as well.

The college-age kid stressed to the max about upcoming tests and quizzes. Wondering if they’ll make it through to the end of the year.

The middle-aged woman uttering desperate prayers that her parents might make it through just a couple more nights. That the cancer wouldn’t take them so quickly.

So, I thought about you all, pouring my coffee. About your lives, how they look different from mine; how they look nearly identical.

Different faces, same emotions. In various cities, the same concerns.


Tired of it.

Just. Plain. Tired.

And I’m not even in the thick of a hardship right now. But just tired. And contemplative.

Dear sister, dear brother. I get you. I SO get you.

I see that fake smile you plaster on.

I see those puffy eyes, trying to mask your tears.


Oh, how I know. How I’ve been there. How I’ve tried desperately hide it all.

Maybe if I wear this super-cute outfit, curl my hair and respond “Great!” to everyone who asks how I’m doing, they’ll think I have it all together. Maybe they’ll think more highly of me. Think I’m better, more put-together than I actually am.

“…The Lord does not look at the things man looks at. Man looks at the outward appearance, but the Lord looks at the heart.” – 1 Samuel 16:7b

He knows you. In fact, He created you. God knows the hairs on your head (Matt. 10:30) – He wove you together like a masterpiece tapestry in your mother’s womb (Psalm 139:13).

Concealer {ah, yes, thank you Jesus for concealer!} can do a great job of covering up those dark circles under your eyes, but God knows why they are there!

But more than Him just knowing, He cares.

“Give all your worries to Him, because He cares for you” – 1 Peter 5:7

And even more than caring, God is an active God. Longing for you to come to Him with your mess. Your hot. blubbering. mess.

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest” – Matthew 11:28

I like the way The Message translation breaks it down as well:

“Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.” (Matt. 11:28-30)

I see that puzzled face. Those questioning eyes.

How do we go about the work of coming to Jesus?

It’s rather simple. And so simple in fact, people and churches and religious folk have been getting it twisted for years.

It’s just an acknowledging. Acknowledging Jesus in whatever awkward, weird way you know how.

“Hey God…we haven’t talked in awhile. I just want You to know that I think You’re here. I hope You’re there. I want You to be here, to help me. I can’t do this alone.”

It’s a “Jesus, I’m so broken. Come to my rescue!”

Unlike what the Pharisees believed in Jesus’ day, God isn’t looking for one with eloquent speech. Someone who looks like they’ve got it all together. Attends the most Bible studies or understands the finer points of systematic theology.

Just the opposite.

God loves the broken, messy, crazy, chaotic people. {Raises hand. Yes. That’s me.}

Oh, how I’m so grateful He does!

So when Jesus talks about giving us rest in Matthew 11, He’s not just talking about an extra nap, however dreamy that may sound.

Jesus is speaking of a spiritual rest. A soul rest.

A rest that refreshes you, renews you and totally washes over you like nothing you’ve ever known before.

Even in the midst of teething babies. A marriage on the rocks. Cancer-ridden parents.

Yes, He can handle all this and even more. In fact, He handled it all, every burden, every worry, on the cross at Calvary when He poured out this love and His blood for you some 2,000 years ago.

He died so that you don’t have to carry it around. He died so that you could be set free. He longs for you to lay that worry at His feet.

Because, He never intended for you to carry it in the first place.

He loves you so much that He wants to be your place of rest.

Aren’t you tired?

Tired of doing it alone? Tired of anxiety? Tired of the weight?

Won’t you tell a friend that loves Jesus what you’re going through? Won’t you ask them to pray for you?

He’s calling.

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest” – Matthew 11:28

Through Unspeakable Joy,