Offering Dung to the Holy God

The offering of pride turned out to be a spoonful of dung. It’s an awful joke to the King of kings, Creator of the universe, the Great Wisdom and Holiness.
And yet this great God looks through the putridness of pride and finds a grain of humility. He then uses it, and makes it beautiful.
I cannot fathom.



When a simple curiosity becomes an interest, interest an approach, and approach a conversation, playfulness and camaraderie floats in the air. But change comes when conversation starts to be measured like sesaws, waiting and hesitating to produce equal or less devotion, to avoid vulnerability. Yet the more meticulous end of the conversation is the more vulnerable, and she knows very well the danger before her when the time comes to part ways. Inevitably she hides. Inevitably coldness and secrecy dominates the air. Inevitably they part, ending the story that developed a simple curiosity into a surpressed one.