God of the broken

Thank you for being the God of my broken dreams.

I still grieve and at times the pain so overwhelms I feel like plunging headlong into the abyss of despair.  I remember the time I was curled up in bed, spilling tears like the Niagara falls consumed by pure, raw pain. And here I am, still standing even though back then, I never thought I'd make it through. The credit belongs to you.

So now, here am I again, at the foot of the cross. Take away the pain. Take me, heal me, graft me back into the tree of life. Let me blossom with your dreams and desires for me and let your grace abound in me so that I will always be sufficient in all the good works that You want to do through me. Help me get past myself, dethrone me from the throne I erected in Your name, stealing Your glory in broad daylight. Help me make sense of this confusion. Give me your wisdom so that I know how to, when to and who to say what to. Give me strength if I need to let go. Don't let me be so humanly nice that my kindness is tainted with hypocrisy and foolishness, bringing no one nearer to the truth and letting them think wrongly that I am, indeed better than I really am. Don't allow me to be so brutally unkind, sharp with my words, quick to pass judgment such that I smear your reputation and drag your name through the slush of shame. Don't let me be me. Let You be You through me.