poor in spirit

when i write with my right hand, it seizes up. it's similar to a muscle cramp, but different. there are some positions that make movement more fluid. like holding my pen with three fingers and pressing the pad of my middle finger down into the pen. after a while the tension in my shoulder gets uncomfortable, and spreading my elbow out like a wing (think chicken-dance wing) releases the referred tension in my forearm a bit.
i've been writing some cards. after a while, none of the usual management strategies were working. every stroke was a self-absorbed pain. remove the usual connotations, i don't think i'm trying to be self-deprecating. i just mean that all i could think about was my right arm. every fibre of my being was focused on the muscles in uncomfortable seizure.

then mercy poured through.

a welcome escape from self-preoccupation. 'Lord, I need you. Please help.'

i'm horrible at coming to God poor in spirit. i try to contract with Him, in some strange attempt to offer the God of all things (seen and unseen) tacky trinkets as a form of consideration.

as spiritually amnesic as i am, sometimes this physical ache reminds me that just as i am driven to cry out to Him for help in the most basic of tasks, so too must i cry out to Jesus, with nothing to offer, in all things, in all relationships. but especially my relationship with God the Father.

i long for the day when self-preoccupation gives way to self-forgetfulness in the face of Glory.