I can’t count the number of times I’ve been crushed like a bug lately. It’s a good thing, too. Now you can see my guts. Watch Him put His hands inside and toss em’ around. Tying off weak spots and letting the good ones flowww.

Hello online journal, it’s been like ages. Hasn’t it? The internet has given me a sick spot in my stomach. Like a belly kick, my jellies take their time pulsing to a complete stop. I’m having troubfle remmembering how to right. Things. AHhh. Now I’ev schhgot it.

Trampled guts / blessing anesthesia. Here’s my time lapse in 30 seconds (or so): It bombed, I bombed, I moved, I got my ass handed to me on a platter made from silver of a particularly tarnished quality, I haven’t put down my ass, I met the love of my life, She cheers me on as I figure out what to do with my flaming ass.

Or:
God broke me into little bits and is making me into something new. Piece by painful (but glorious) piece. Praise Him.

Lord, please let You will be done in me. Restructure my whole being if necessary, just make into what You want. Change my heart and renew my mind. Send me to do Your good work and only that. Help me to love and cherish others as you love and cherish me. Take all that I have and more, if possible. I choose to serve You whether or not You ever touch me again. I believe that You live in me, and want all of me to be in obedience to Your perfect will. And that is good enough. Make me into an effective minister of Your Gospel, and into a true friend to all those I meet. I worship You and give You all praise. Thank You for Your unending Love, unchanging Truth, and ultra-vibrant Life. I am yours, Lord. Use me.

And that’s where you come to. You get real small and you realize you’re not holding your own ass anymore, but a tool, a Word, a testimony, and story about His goodness. And then you sleep in peace.