10/05/08…Oh, Christ Jesus, my Savior…I think I understand Your beatitude, “Blessed are those who are poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.” I never knew its truth before this pursuit of You. My spirit feels poor. Through Your holy truth, my spirit grieves. It is unable to completely let go of creature comforts, and to take everything I own and lay it before You; to store up no treasure here on earth, and instead, focus on feeding the hungry, and helping the poor. If my soul can cry, then its tears are staining my heart. They are coming down in slow drips, a slow torture. One drop at a time, reminding me every three seconds of my inability to drop it all and follow You in reckless passionate pursuit. This beckoning truth weighs heavy on my shoulders. I am unable to shoulder it alone. What am I to do? You ask nothing of me, but me, yet I am so in love with You I want to follow You so bad, it hurts me, and in turn my spirit indeed grieves. Is this what it means to be poor in spirit? I realize the unworthiness of following You. I say one thing, I do another. Were this body garbage, I would throw it in a landfill and cover it up with the stinking refuse and then let the birds pick at it so at least they gain some nourishment from me.
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