Thursday, July 21, 2011

Poor, Poor Pitiful Me

Hi. My name is Carrie and I'm a shopaholic. I admit my love for shopping - but I cannot deny I am a bargain hunter! I don't buy anything that isn't on sale and the clearance racks are usually my first target. I need to feel like I got a good deal. I don't see how much I spent - I consider how much I saved. I cannot pay full price for something, it just isn't in my DNA. I don't need the brand names, I just need a great bargain.

As much as I love to shop, I have recently learned it's all just "stuff." To have your house and most of your worldly possessions stripped away will quickly teach you not to put stock in the "things" of this world. To hear Christ say "Blessed are the poor in spirit..." (Matt. 5:3) is a comfort considering the intangibles I face. I possess a "poor me" attitude more often than I'd like to admit. But this is certainly not the "poor in spirit" He was talking about.

Today I find comfort in the words of Oswald Chambers:
"Blessed are the poor..." The first principle in the kingdom of God. The underlying foundation of the kingdom is poverty, not possessions; not making decisions for Jesus, but having such a sense of absolute futility that we admit, "Lord, I cannot even begin to do it." Then Jesus says, "Blessed are you..."
If you know me then you know I don't hide my feelings and the first thing I must admit is I have reached that point. The point in which I've said, "Lord, I cannot even begin to do it." The pressures. The obstacles. The barriers. The difficulties. The heartbreaks. The disappointments. I cannot begin to do it...on my own. You see, the rest of Matthew 5:3 tells the poor in spirit "theirs is the Kingdom of heaven. What I lack in this world - be it physical, emotional or mental "gain" - I can rest in knowing I will achieve in eternity. But before we even get there, the poor in spirit are called "blessed." 
It's not about my pity party. It's not about the martyr syndrome. It's not about being destitute. It's not about being neglected, rejected or alone. In fact, it's not about me at all. It's about my spirit that admits I cannot do it on my own. My spirit, not being broken down, but being broken to the point of being poured out. My spirit, poured out to spill over the goodness of a great God. The goodness of a great God who promises that in my broken, poured out, empty state, He will bless me. Poor, Poor BLESSED me!  

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