Good theologians live their theology, he shared. I'm not a good theologian. If I were a good theologian, I would pray for hours instead of getting on facebook. I would weep over my sin. I would . . .
I would weep over my sin.
And something inside of me grows fidgety.
Jesus knows . . . I struggle with this. I struggle with hating my sin.
I'm not good at looking it straight in the face and cursing it.
I would rather turn around and try to hop back into God's lap like a silly child who doesn't understand her own contradictions.
But I've prayed that I would hate my sin. And I want to . . . I really do.
I want to hate the way that pride creeps in and slaughters anything pure and kind in my actions.
I want to hate the way it has the potential to completely destroy my relationships with my friends and family and church and my effectiveness in loving people and loving God.
I want to hate each time I lie to people and tell 'em I'm doing fine or when I say that I will pray for you! and then [shamefully] forget, when I lie to people with my smile and my actions.
I want to hate each time I try to save people on my own and forget I am only creature. He is Creator. Savior.
I want to hate each moment when I speak of another person unkindly and when I kill someone in my mind with cruel, cruel thoughts.
I want to hate each conversation when I tell someone what they want to hear instead of the truth, when I rely on myself to speak and not listen to what Jesus wants to tell them or just how He wants to listen to them.
I want to hate each moment when I think I can do everything because the world relies on me, right? (Negative)
Another word for broken can be Contrite.
Dictionary.com puts life into that word when it describes contrite as that which is:
"caused by or showing sincere remorse, filled with a sense of guilt and the desire for atonement; penitent: a contrite sinner."
So today, my prayer is for this type of brokenness. I want to be broken by my sin, Lord. Completely penitent, remorseful, and repentent. I want to hate it, to see how You hate it, how it wrecks me and keeps my relationship with you from being what it could be. Is this the way I should pray?
Please, break me, Father.
I love You.
The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise.