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Glass Heart

I was holding my fragile glass heart tonight.

"Will you please care for this?"  I asked around.

The world's response was to knock it out of my hands, and at the feet of Jesus though I wasn't aiming for Him.  The aroma from the heart, which was apparently a jar of perfume, was reaching His nose.  He found it pleasing to Him.

Though my hope was to keep the heart and never let it get broken, the fact that I didn't offer it to God in the first place suddenly came to mind.

"I should have handed it to the Father first...oh no, is He mad?" I thought.

Foolishly trying to fix the situation and bending down to gather the pieces and the oil, I felt a hand stop what I was doing.

"I desire mercy, not sacrifice," I was raised to my feet.  I was in His arms.  It seemed that was what He was after all along.

The sacrifice (though not entirely willful) made me all the more acutely aware of the fact that I do not love Christ as I should.  Only He can hold my heart and care for it like no one else could.

I now am sure of two things:

1)  "On hearing this, Jesus said, 'It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick.  But go and learn what this means:  'I desire mercy, not sacrifice.  For I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners.'"--Matthew 9:12-13

Only His mercy can save, not my attempts at a sacrifice.

2)  "Blessed are those who mourn for they shall be comforted"--Matthew 5:4

Oh, how sweet the comfort.
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