Yeah, right on with that last post. I really hate it when people see my imperfection. If someone notices somethin that I've done (like that typo) that's not quite up to par, it's like they've unearthed some sort of terrible, awful misdeed that could have me nominated for some sort of torturous punishment - some real Guantanamo Bay stuff.That means I've constructed a heck of a house of cards - it looks great, but it's ridiculous to sit there and work on forever because with one walk by, one breath, one touch, it could all go tumbling. It makes me wonder how much I could do if I would spend my energy in other places - rather than on a facade that crumbles at the slightest touch.
What if I did know - really - how deep my imperfection goes? Then, would I know grace even deeper? Here's to finding out.
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For some reason, lately it seems there are a million moments in the day where I catch myself noticing my need for God just in my thought life alone. Scary, but good. I am disgusted by it, but grateful for recognizing my disease.
ReplyDeleteYeah - he who has been forgiven much loves much. There's this song I have that has this constant refrain of "God loves a murderer/ because there's so much sin to forgive." I think that fits somewhere there. Love it.
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