{ i need you to soften my heart }

A word keeps coming up in my life, which has made me wonder if I should unpack it a little... give it some attention. I've known people who say that God puts words on their hearts - for themselves and for others. I've never (that I know of) experienced God in that particular way, but I think it is quite possible that he could be trying to get my attention ... lately ... with a word.

Depleted. 

Spent. Exhausted. Zombie. Vacant. 

I don't enjoy living depleted - running on fumes, never really feeling like I'm caught up on rest, scraping what feels like the bottom of a voided emotional barrel for something to contribute/give/share for the sake of connection/relationship/service. The worst part might be when I start to resent people who need from me. And I'm talking about people that are valid in their needing. Their agendas for me aren't wrong or out of place or presumptuous or abusive. Many of them I'm :: paid :: to be present to. It is my responsibility to be available. That might be the worst part because my state of depletedness is very real ... and so is the request of their hearts ... which results in a very real sense of guilt. A case of the shoulds. Feeling completely incapable of fulfilling a call and a responsibility. Nagging anxiety that I can't do it. 

And that's not to mention all the non-work related pieces of life. 

I'm not sure how others maintain, how they make it work (because I'm not naive enough to think I'm the only one). I'm learning that at least one of the results of depletion in my life is a toughness of my heart. I don't mean strength ... I mean resistance.

Resistance to be obedient, resistance to emotion, resistance to rest, resistance to submission, resistance to vulnerability, resistance to give, resistance to receive. The loss of tenderness. 

When I think of the woman that I want to be - the woman that I'm believing God has MADE me to be, CALLED me to be - she is TENDER. She is tuned in to her heart, God's spirit, and those around her. Truth moves her. She is responsive because the tenderness of her heart enables her to be that way. She lives free. Her boldness and grace are balanced and inform the other, resulting in an availability to life and people and God. A life poured out to others does not feel like an inconvenience ... it is the deepest longing of her soul. Her tenderness blooms in humility, repentance, and a deep understanding of her sin which cultivates a rich experience of God's mercy and romancing of her heart. She is more prone to centeredness. Her tender heart isn't perfect, nor is it rescued from feeling like God is far away. In fact, it might feel his absence all the more, because it isn't numb. But I think her tender heart might then have the opportunity to learn God's heart from a much deeper place : where is he when I feel like he has left, and how much more profound my faith must be to sustain feelings of abandonment and fear? 

Today I got my butt into church. We sang these words. And I felt myself melting just a little. 

I need you to soften my heart

to break me apart.

I need you to open my eyes

to see that you're shaping my life.

All I am, 

I surrender. 

Give me faith to trust what you say

that you're good and your love is great. 

I'm broken inside, I give you my life. 

And from a state of depletion, I echo Francois Fenelon's prayer:

"Lord, I know not what I ought to ask of thee; thou only knowest what I need .... I simply present myself before thee, I open my heart to thee. Behold my needs which I know not myself. Smite, or heal; depress me, or raise me up; I adore all thy purposes without knowing them; I am silent; I offer myself in sacrifice; I yield myself to thee; I would have no other desire than to accomplish thy Will. Teach me to pray. Pray thyself in me. Amen." 

And make me tender.