My weekend

On Friday, my God humbled me.
Saturday, I humbly looked to Him and he showed me the frail butterfly and told me to have courage. I do not have a spirit of timidity. I have a spirit of power, of love, and of self-discipline. This is who I am in Christ, who has called me to a life of adventure in His name.
Saturday night, I threw everything away. Everything that I considered to be me I tossed to the sky and raised my hands, simply requesting that I be used. In that windy field of golden grain, I met with Jesus Christ and gave him back the talent he had first given me. This earthly body I have now is just an empty shell; a pitiful housing for Something unspeakably radiant and immortal. I sobbed in that field -- not from sorrow, but from pain. What I saw was so beautiful it caused me pain when I realized I would never have the perfect words to tell others. The pain of Beauty is a cleansing wound.
Sunday morning, I woke up dead. I died in order to live a new freedom.

I am nothing. Thou art all.