There are so many things I want to fill this page with right now.  Since I can’t seem to articulate them into a coherent concise entry I will go little by little.

For a while now, I’ve been moved by Mary’s words to Gabriel after he told her about what was going to happen in her belly.

“I am the Lord’s servant.  May it be to me as you have said.”

Those words caught me.  Or rather, I felt like they were stuck in my mind but I didn’t know to consume them, how to digest the truth in her words.  I was only reminded here and there that my heart wanted to be in agreement with Mary’s.

This past weekend has subtle-ly rocked me.  Like a hurricane unfolding – on mute.  I could see the waters rise and move by an unseen force.  I could see my heart moved – ugh I need better vocabulary.  Moved is so… bland.  I could see my heart… ripped up, kneaded, blasted, molded in something like purposeful violence haha.  Like the moment a potter has a new idea and he has to translate it into clay.  Swift movements, no hesitation, the fleshing of purpose and vision.

“I am the Lord’s servant.  May it be to me as you have said.”

In the past couple weeks I’ve come face to face with a desire of being servant, slave to him.  Such a burning smoldering longing.  Such a deep deep deep current running, singing through my veins.  I didn’t know what to do with it.  I could only wait.  As usual.  Wait and wait and wait and wait and wait because You will answer, o Lord my God.

So what defined this weekend?  In one sentence, the heart’s, spirit’s anticipation was conceived in the flesh.

The desire and hope were birthed into the truth that I am his servant, that I am to be used.  I know now that I am what I already was.  Do you get me?  Haha.  Without knowing, it couldn’t become real to me, be true for me.  Or rather, it became real to me and so now I know.

Here I am.  A servant, a slave.  So much more on this later.



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