There were over 4500 people in the room. Plus me. I didn’t know anyone there except Jesus. That was my plan – drive two hours to be alone with Him in a crowd. Kari Jobe led worship and Christine Caine brought the word and all of that was very enticing, but really, I was there to meet with Jesus. It’s true, I could have met with Him anywhere, without even leaving my house. But sometimes, there’s just something about the going to Him that matters to me. It was the shaking off the heaviness, getting up and going that I needed.Continue reading “in the shadow of God”
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offensive mercy
I remember this song that went on repeat in my heart. Those words that became a yearning to get out of the boat and walk on water. To go deeper. Further, much further than I could ever go on my own. Oh how I would sing it out…
Spirit lead me where my trust is without borders
Let me walk upon the waters
Wherever You would call me
Take me deeper than my feet could ever wander
And my faith will be made stronger
In the presence of my Savior
I didn’t know. I was blissfully unaware of what deeper and further really look like — what walking on water would demand from me.Continue reading “offensive mercy”
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learning from addiction
Two years ago this May, I began serving in a recovery home called Grace House. It has been hard, fun, exciting and exasperating all at the same time. But mostly, it has been one of the greatest learning experiences I have ever had. And I, as always, am compelled to share with you what I’ve learned.
Everyone has a story. In the two years I have spent ministering to women in addiction, I’ve heard unimaginable stories. And I’ve learned from them things I don’t know I would have learned any other way.Continue reading “learning from addiction”
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leave me broken
Once I was dead. But You found me and made me alive. I came up, like a miner from the underground, squinting at the suddenness of light. You washed me in blood, healed the sickness of shame, and convinced me of love. So much. You’ve done so much. I see it. Mostly in glances stolen from my intent stare at me, and what still needs to be done.
Then today came and You did something new. You closed my eyes to the reflection of me in my various stages of disrepair, and opened them to a different reflection. I saw it there, behind the mirror.
Me. Desperately clinging to You. That’s my hand with a death grip on the hem of Your robe. Me. Hiding behind You from an enemy I couldn’t see, but knew was there, calling for my destruction. Me. Trying to keep my feet in line with Yours. Touching Your scars in wonder. Not caring that I was still a mess. Just wanting, needing to stay close, to listen intently, to watch Your every movement. Me. Wanting You with everything in me.
I saw it and remembered. Desperation. Adoration. Unquenchable love.
I saw it and a prayer formed, rushing into me like brand new breath.
Oh God. Leave me broken.
Help me walk straight, but leave me with a limp. I need to need grace.
Strengthen my weak knees, but leave them bent. I need my face close to the ground at Your feet. Life is better there.
Train my hands for war. Make them strong enough to grip Your hand, but leave them too weak to hold my own life.
Help me walk with confidence and authority, but with enough insecurity to keep me hiding behind You.
Give my eyes vision, but keep it dim so that I don’t look past You.
Heal my heart, but leave it aching for those who still need to be convinced of love.
Once I was dead. But You found me and You made me alive…washed me in blood, healed the sickness of shame, and convinced me of love.
Don’t stop. Refine me. Restore me. Baptize me with fire. Revive me. Make me whole.
Just leave me broken.
Karla Jo Wasion 