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Writer's pictureAlyssa Farrell

Soft Hearts and Broken Bread

Updated: Sep 29, 2020


I keep running into Psalm 139:23a and the words create a havoc of images in my mind: "Search me, O God, and know my heart" (ESV). 


The first image is birthed out of this concept of my heart. I see the organ that pumps blood. Filled with the desire to hold my heart out to God, my hands cup around my heart, held out. 


​But when I lay eyes on my heart, the lack of everything within is jolting. The lack of faith, righteousness, and power. 


God, give me faith! Mold me like you mold soft clay. Knead the palm of your hand into this clay, press the sides to form the shapes of faith and trust. Let my heart be soft so you can press and form it. Let my heart be tender so it will shape to be like yours. Let my heart be tender.


The image turns. The flesh surrounding the outside of the heart in my hands is firm, calloused. I dig my fingers in and tear the outer layer off to make my heart sore, soft, tender. The blood drips from my hand. 


My heart is tender. It aches like God's heart aches. Mourning with those who mourn, it is empathetic and malleable. I look at my hands: They are bloody from carrying the weight of this vital organ. 


This is wrong. I shouldn’t be holding this. Yet I try to hold control over my life! Try to be love, be empathy, be a helper, be a listener. Carry other's burdens. But these things are not my responsibility. They are not in my control. 


I shift the image again in my mind. Jesus' hands. That's where my life, my heart belong. He's holding me carefully, tenderly—healing me. 


Jesus, the One who holds my heart. The One who shapes my heart to look like His.And His heart. It is soft, spongy bread, dipped in sweet wine until it's soaked with the life. It is sacrifice—body broken, blood poured out. It is love, communion. 


That's what I want Him to make of my heart: a heart of bread; and my flesh, a sacrifice surrendered to Him. Soft, torn open, awaiting. And the bread is dipped in the wine, the blood. The Scriptures call the blood the "life source" of human beings. The life source. The new wine, the power of the Holy Spirit, poured into my heart.


Come, Spirit of Jesus, come. Search me and know me. Hold me, shape me. Let my heart be open and awaiting Your presence, Your power, Your life. 

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