Kicked To The Curb.

This is an unplanned continuation of “It’s Trash Day”.

Good morning, peeps!

Let the King of my heart
Be the mountain where I run
The fountain I drink from
Oh He is my song
Let the King of my heart
Be the shadow where I hide
The ransom for my life
Oh He is my song

Let the King of my heart
Be the wind inside my sails
The anchor in the waves
Oh He is my song
Let the King of my heart
Be the fire inside my veins
The echo of my days
Oh He is my song

lyrics from “King of My Heart” – Bethel Music

I was awakened at 2:59 a.m. with those words going round and round in my brain.  I like the song, but 2:59??  God, You’re speaking to me at 2:59?  This is a total breach of contract: we agreed upon 3:30 a.m. as the “I need to talk to you, Deone” time.  Oh well, He is the boss.

Or is He?

This is the road I have been travelling down since 2:59 a.m.  God asked me “Who is the king of your heart?  What is the king of your heart?”  That scared me a little because I know the answer should be “You, my Lord”.  When I answered His question with that (using my best English accent), I got in return, “Are you sure, D?”  Then He proceeded to break down every single line in that song and posed them as questions to me.

What is the wind inside your sails?  What drives you? What is the anchor of your life?  What do you stand or lean on when the winds are blowing? What is the fire inside your veins, Deone?  Who is the king of your heart? Where do you hide when things aren’t going the way you think they should go?  What fountain do you drink from?  Not take a sip, but drink from?  Think about it.

I’ve been in some serious prayer this morning.

I was reminded of the words I spoke on Sunday before I led worship.  I had the congregation do a call-and-response that I grew up with: God is good (all the time) and all the time (God is good).  I shared that I didn’t always respond because there were times that I didn’t feel like God was good.  I mean, I didn’t think He was bad, but good?  I had asked God that morning why I couldn’t always see that He was good and He told me because I don’t always see things through His eyes.  Psalm 34:8 was the scripture that came to me and I shared that with the congregation.  Before y’all think I have the location of scriptures on lock, know that I don’t.  I’ve never been good at that.  I just remembered the words and then Google told me where they were.  Okay, now here’s the verse:

Oh, taste and see that the LORD is good!
Blessed is the man who takes refuge in him! (ESV)

I told the congregation, “The more we taste of God and the more we take refuge in Him, the more we will see that God is good – all the time.”  That was some good stuff, right?  I thought so, too.  I didn’t know God was going to confront me on what I’ve been tastin’ and where I’ve been hidin’ three days later.

Wednesday was trash day and on Tuesday night, I told my son to take the trash out and to the curb.  He looked at me like I had three eyeballs and said, “Mom.  Really?  It’s cold outside.” Me: do you want the house to stink?  Son: you can spray something.  Boy, if you don’t get your behind… I could hear him grumbling as he walked out the door, but I didn’t care.  When I got in my car to leave for work the next day, something caught my eye: the trash can.  It was not at the curb, but was leaning up against the house.  I sighed and thought, “Oh well.  At least he took the trash out.  I guess I’ll have him take it to the curb next week.”

God brought that image to me and reminded me of my blog from yesterday.  There are some things that I’ve not taken to the curb.  Forget the curb:  I haven’t even taken them “out”.  Let me be all the way real, peeps.  Let’s call my heart/mind/soul/spirit my “house”.  I’ve got trash in my house.  Things like pride, selfishness, lust (two big ol’ leaking bags of that, the black ones), envy, and a bunch of miscellaneous stuff.  Their odor is stinking up the place.  I’ve sprayed them with denial, but the stench is overpowering.  The smell is so strong, I can taste it.  Just seeing them, I drink from them.  I hide in them.  They are my anchor, my refuge, the fire, the wind…good grief.

There’s no waiting until next week for me.  I couldn’t even wait until 3:30 a.m. today.  God woke me up at 2:59 and told me to take the trash out.

I did.  It’s on the curb.

–d.