Breakdown

No matter how many times you build something, it always seems to break away into ruins.

I mean, that seems to be the curse of man. Anything that man tries to make seems to be doomed to be destroyed and demolished the moment the first brick of it's foundation is laid.

And such is the way with hearts. We are told in scripture that we're supposed to break our hearts and make our spirits contrite and humble. But what exactly does that mean?

I used to wonder about that a lot when I was still searching for a baptism of fire. A broken heart is a requirement for becoming born again. I read from a Christian minister's sermon online that one way you can interpret a broken heart is by going back to the literal meaning that the word "broken" would have applied.

In that context then, there's more than one meaning. There's breaking your heart like you break an object into pieces. But then there's breaking in like a horse. See, a horse isn't prepared for a battle in war unless it's fully broken in so that it will respond to it's master in any circumstance. It trusts the master and does whatever the master wants. It bends to the will of the master and not it's own. Because of this, the horse becomes very dependable even in the heat of battle. The horse is ready for any fight. It can walk in and out of any battle if it's broken in sucessfully.

I've learned today that no matter how many times I broke my heart, I never broke it all the way. I never tore everything down. I always left some thing remaining in the foundation. Whether it was a dark memory, or a dark desire. I was afraid of emptying myself.

You can't be afraid. You can't let Christ be your Master if you keep anything else. There's a song by Greg Simpson called "Goodbye Babylon" that perfectly illustrates this:

The whistle is blowing—can you hear the sound?
The last train is leaving this forsaken town
And you're running, but something is slowing you down
So leave all your baggage behind
You've got to make it to that station on time.

Just say goodbye, Babylon
Don't cry, don't linger on
Don't ever look behind you
You might take too long
You know, one day they'll find out
That you've gone on that last train outta Babylon.

That's my prayer for you, reader. Get outta Babylon while you still can. And remember: you can't take anything with you when you make your escape. It'll only slow you down.