Dear Lord, bless my room, minimize the worldly things and replace them with Your Presence. Send me Your Call and prepare me the way You did John and Jesus; Abraham and Moses; Paul and David. Have it take 30 years, 40 years, 80 years — I’m patient. O Father in Heaven, how hungry I am for Your Flame and Your Kingdom. Day in and day out, I find myself hungry for Your Word. O Selfless One, trembling am I who yearns to be Your child, Your student, Your faithful servant. Instill in me Your Spirit and Your Will for the sake of Your Works. From now until my purpose is fulfilled.

In Jesus’ name,

Amen.

…

I’ve wanted this for a while now; a clean room —  and not just clean, but empty. Empty of all the worldly possessions that don’t serve my walk with God and rather, keep me from Him all together. How easy it is to engage in the pleasures of ‘nice’ things, and yet, how heavy they are — like cuffs around my spiritual soul. How heavy, though how strong I must be to carry them, and I do carry them.

Like in the morning, when I wish most to surrender, my surrender gets interrupted by miniscule things.

And in the afternoon, when I wish most to serve, my service gets interrupted by trivial stuff.

And in the night, when I wish most to pray, my prayer gets interrupted by digital devices.

Material, material, material.

How material I am.

Lord, have mercy on me.

Because eternity doesn’t come from things, or stuff, or devices; from phones or fancy furniture; from Alexa or Google, Instagram or Facebook. It comes from Calvary and the crucifixion of Christ that bore all our sins in his body on the tree (1 Peter 2:24). And the more I read Scripture and the entirety of the Gospel, the more I find myself drawn to His depiction of love and sacrifice and selfless living; His touch and reassurance; His guidance and spiritual wisdom; His trust and faithful service; His confidence and humility; His forgiveness and endless giving. His posture, which is free from pride, and full of peace. These are the things I gravitate towards and ultimately the things I find myself missing; like a glove without a hand to fill it — empty. 

And the truth is, I’ve been empty of Him for so long. In fact, I’ve led the past decade with a dimly-lit fire, a puffed up chest, and the pen to my story in the palm of my hand. And I’ll be the first to admit I hate my writing. It’s cluttered with anxiety and doubt; worry and fear; insecurity, dysmorphia, depression, and this constant penetrating thought that I’m not built to stand. I’m the seed that shrivels up on the rock; full of cheap faith and no root (Matthew 13:5-6).

And you know what comes to mind when I think about these things?

I’m a sinner. 

I’m a sinner, and that’s exactly who Jesus came down here for.

“And when Jesus heard it, he said to them, “Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick. I came not to call the righteous, but sinners.”

Mark 2:17

He came for me. And so, to step into this new season of surrender, I release my hand from the glove of worldly things and replace it with an emptiness that allows Christ to fill in the space. 

And the concept is easier said than done, of course. It’s taken me since Mei to actually take a step towards minimizing my space and originally, God wasn’t even the reason behind it. I wanted the aesthetic, the look — of being small. Needing less. But deep down, the look wasn’t enough to get me to move. 

But God is.

Jesus said to him, “If you would be perfect, go, sell what you possess and give to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven; and come, follow me.” When the young man heard this he went away sorrowful, for he had great possessions. And Jesus said to his disciples, “Truly, I say to you, only with difficulty will a rich person enter the kingdom of heaven. Again I tell you, it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle than for a rich person to enter the kingdom of God.

Matthew 19:21-24

So, let’s go corner to corner, until it’s all gone, so that the Lord may be glorified with the space I leave for Him. Corner to corner. Room to room. Until all that’s left to to do is

rebuild.

…

He is no fool who gives what he cannot keep to gain that which he cannot lose.

Jim Elliot.

What does your space look like? Does it serve you well? Does it serve Him?

Think about it. 

Cheers,
B.