My cup feels empty, and my mouth feels dry.

Lessons.

I feel overwhelmed with all God is trying to teach me. At times, I simply want to give up and say, “I’m ready to go back to my old life. To be old Natalie again, lukewarm. I’m ready to have the lukewarm job and the lukewarm boyfriend and the lukewarm attitude towards You, Father.”

Then I think,

“I’d rather be hot, on fire for you, or cold, totally broken, then to come to you at the end of my life, knowing I lived safe, and knowing I chose the world instead of my soul. I chose to die instead of live.”

I feel vulnerable and broken. I feel like everything in my life is being flipped upside down for this King.

Things like this:

to save your life, you have to lose it.

to live, you have to die.

to be powerful, you must become like a child.

to see, you have to have faith in the unseen.

to mature, you have to become humble.

to lead, you have to become like a servant.

"AHHHHHHHH!" Says my brain.

Boy, have I been praying. I feel like all I can do is pray. And I am humbled. Wow, how I am humbled. Tears come with the reality that I have chosen venomous sin in my life, knowing fully well that Jesus was brutally murdered for that sin. Forgiveness and mercy is a beautiful thing that I wish I had more of.

My notebook is completely filled with prayers. I feel like my brain is constantly being regurgitated onto paper.

I wrote my first song. It’s not that great. But I wrote it after my chaotic week and the words just sort of spilled out.

It still needs a lot of work, and I feel like I have the music in my head, my friend is just putting it to a guitar for me.

Here it is:

I ask you, “Why?

Why? Why? Oh Why?”

Have you taken such a life?

I ask you, “How?

How, Father, How?”

Can I kneel here at your throne

and let it all bleed out?

Let each beat inside,

Show you the life

That I am chasing after, Father.

Because

I’m beautifully broken

Divinely chosen

For You, my Lord, for You, my Lord.

I’m beautifully broken,

Divinely Chosen,

For a King

Who heals all things.

Like a child, I reached up to You

You took my hand.

And You helped me stand.

I’m beautifully broken,

Divinely chosen.

For you, my Father, for you my Father.

I’m beautifully broken,

Divinely Chosen,

For a King

Who heals all things.

Heal this heart.

Hear my soul.

For you are love.

And this I declare.

That…

You are everything and I am nothing.

You are everything and I am nothing.

You are everything and I am nothing.

I’m beautifully broken,

Divinely chosen.

For you, mere Pita, for you mere Pita.

(My father in Hindi)

I’m beautifully broken,

Divinely Chosen,

For the King

Who heals broken things.

He heals all things.