Dear God,

What can I possibly say that has not already been said? What great truth have You revealed to me that yet needs to be heard? I feel like I am shouting in a dark room, listening to these echoes reverberate back to me. And realizing. I am too small for this. I am much too small for this.

But this is my talent, Lord. This is my seed. May I never see the harvest, still I will plant. It's true, I want to see. Some confirmation that my words are not for nothing. Because I am selfish. I want to know that this is for You, that this is from You, and not from myself. I want to be used. And this is the only way I know how to be, right now. This is as much courage as I can muster.

I am still very broken, You know. It's easy to pretend I'm not, with these words. It is easy to pretend that I am very spiritual, wise. That I have it all together, the way most people seem to think. I can feel the expectation weighing on me, sometimes. 

You know I want to be everything You have called me to be. I want to know Your voice. I want everything else--everything else--to fade, my eyes are so enthralled with You. 

But I blink. I get distracted. By the material, the temporal. By myself. My anger, my fear, my selfishness. By the lies my heart insists on believing even when my head knows it's not true.

Still. You promised You could use us in our brokenness. You promised that my weakness was Your strength. That is why I have not given up. That is why I am still here. 

So this is me laying down my pride. If these words are only for echoing, I pray that I am changed when they return to me again. If these words cause only one person to stop and consider, I praise You for it. This is not about me. It never was. Because these words have always been Yours.