I don’t know if I’ve ever given such a pure and unadulterated cry of, “lead me to the cross.” And just knowing how human I am, I’m still not sure my desperation has led me to complete purity in that cry.
However, I’m broken. It’s not the brokenness I usually feel, the one that comes after I’ve sinned and feel the weight on my shoulders. It’s not the brokenness I feel when the consequences of my actions outweigh my ability to handle my decisions. It’s not the selfish brokenness I sometimes sit in to try and make up for my desperate failings again and again.
I’m feeling a new brokenness that hits me in my core and forces me to my knees. As I am no longer able to stand surely and securely, my body bends in desperation for the things I cannot change; not of myself, but of this broken world. I am so, so broken. For my friends. For my selfish generation that uses and abuses each other, that follows a road of darkness and brings others in because we don’t want to sit in the dark alone.
Recently, I’ve found myself in situation after situation of darkness. Because it’s fun, and it feels good in the moment. It never bothered me to be used and abused. It never bothered me to consider myself worthless in my actions and how I lived my life.
But then I heard about another girl who was used and abused in the same way. And then I heard my own friends sharing about their apathetic lives, because no one gives a fuck anymore about anything. It brought me to my knees. It broke my spirit in a way I haven’t been broken before. And I thought of my friends Jamie and Kelsy (among others), who had prayed for me in my darkness. I thought of how they stood for me when I couldn’t stand for myself. I remembered how their prayers made a difference.
One night when I thought I couldn’t live life anymore, Jamie prayed in the spirit for my freedom. When I was too apathetic to care about it myself, Jamie rebuked the darkness and prayed for me to come in to the light. And I woke up the next morning without tears flooding my eyes. I woke up the next morning, unknowing of Jamie’s prayer, feeling alive again for the first time in so long.
Is it my turn now? Is this my time to use the passion and the brokenness to stand for others? I am no longer uncaring of the situations in or beyond my control. Because I know. I know how it is. I’ve been there. And I too, have not cared in the moment or the moments (days, weeks, YEARS) afterwards. But now I feel it.
And I would do anything to help others avoid this kind of pain. But I also know I can’t. I know for me to judge or say, “that’s not the way,” is empty and hypocritical at best. Especially to those who know me well, who have seen my notorious reputation flourish. Who see me continue to sin against God, when I desperately don’t want to give in to this sin.
So I’m brought to my knees. And I am just now remembering that it was only last week I read about Isaiah telling God, “here am I, send me.” And I thought what a powerful prayer that was, and I prayed myself, “here am I Lord, can you use a girl like me?” And now, the “girl like me” worships the God alone who saves. To pray in the spirit and rebuke the darkness that is trying to overtake my friends, my school, and my city. The darkness that has tried to overtake me.
The past few days I have not been able to shake this brokenness. But I will use it to pray, because that is all I can do now. Fight for the ones who can’t or don’t care enough to fight for themselves. “My sacrifice, O God, is a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart you, God, will not despise.” Psalm 51:7 Here am I, Lord, lead me to the cross.