Poor

I've been thinking about being poor in spirit.
Jesus said that the poor in spirit are blessed,
for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.

If we are poor,
we have nothing to brag about.
We can only cling to our humanity,
wretched as it is.
And cling to Him who understands
that wretchedness in a personal way.

If I am poor in spirit
I know that the only gift
I can bring to God
is the gift of thanksgiving
for every little thing.
And even the giving of thanks
is a gift from Him.

If I am truly poor,
I do not consider others to be fortunate
to be around me.
I consider myself fortunate to be around others
and to learn from them.

I've been reading Brennan Manning's book,
"Souvenirs of Solitude."
I've been reading and re-reading
the chapter, "Really Human-Really Poor."

I want to share a prayer he wrote.

"Jesus, my Brother and Lord,
I pray, as I write these words,
for the grace to be truly poor before You,
to recognize and accept my weakness
and humanness,
to forego the indecent luxury of self-hatred,
to celebrate Your mercy and trust
in Your power when I'm at my weakest,
to rely on Your love no matter what I may do,
to seek no escapes from my innate poverty,
to accept loneliness when it comes
instead of seeking substitutes,
to live peacefully without clarity or assurance,
to stop grandstanding and trying to get attention,
to do the truth quietly without display,
to let the dishonesties in my life fade away,
to belong no more to myself,
to not desert my post when I give the
appearance of staying at it,
to cling to my humanity,
to accept the limitations and full responsibility
of being a human being-
really human and really poor
in Christ our Lord."

I wrote this in my thanksgiving journal today.

I am thankful for the freedom to be poor in spirit;
to know how much I need Him;
to not worry about people's perceptions
as to whether I look beautiful or not beautiful
on the surface of my life.
I know I am not beautiful.
I know something is wrong.

And, oh, the blessed blessedness
of not having a facade,
of not trying to keep up an image,
of allowing others the freedom to be
disappointed in me,
and to allow myself the freedom
to be a disappointment to others;
and to understand their judgment
of my poverty.

And oh, the grace of God,
that He would bless my poverty,
my lack of beauty, my messed up life,
with His richness,
and His beauty,
and His perfection.

And oh, the grace,
that there are some who love us still,
in spite of our pride,
our sin, our failure, our lack.
I am overwhelmed by this gift of grace;
this freedom to be poor.
Thank You, holy, holy God.