How can this cracked cup be proud of the wee bit of water barely offering a drink? If loving Him is offering a whole cup, I am wholly inadequate. And this flimsy flesh slaps another hard blow across my already bleeding back, and I lay the cover open for others to see the scars...to see the blood and the broken...and I am proud I know just how flimsy I am.
Pride is a lie whether it boasts too much or boasts too little.
And the broken cup I like to display is trash, not treasure, in the eyes of a God who leaves nothing broken because broken is ill-equipped but He fully equips, and this arrogance of need I like to flaunt as holy makes Him wholly ill.
If pride goes before fall, pride must go before I fall on my knees, and I confess it isn't about my brokenness but about His, and it isn't about my knowing I'm cracked but my knowing Him on Calvary. It is not about being mangled. It is about being masterpiece.
How can one bring glory as a Savior's masterpiece when I'm flaunting the arrogance of being a saved mess? The masterpiece is for His glory; repeatedly acknowledging I'm a mess is for mine.
And I am disgusted. And again, the pride goes, and I fall, and, God, save me from this mess I am and give me the mind of masterpiece so I live as a piece of the Master.
A masterpiece does not take pride in being magnificent or mangled. Instead, if finds joy and peace in knowing it is a loved and priceless piece of its Master.
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