I think many of us spend too much time focusing on our sins, instead of God. I know I do. I fight with spending all my time trying to avoid my sin, worry about my sin, sinning, repenting of my sin and then regreting my sin, until the cycle begins again.
God's trying to teach me something new though. Instead of trying to overcome my sin, he's teaching me to surrender to him. To throw myself on him like a wave crashing on the rocks
God, have mercy on me, for I am a sinner!
One of my favourite verses. The tax collector cries out, without pretense, without a false expectation of who he is, or who he should be.
God, have mercy on me!
I'm not worthy of your forgiveness, I deserve the consequences of sin, but
God, have mercy on me!
God, let me escape the terrible, eternal consequences of my lascivious desire for sin. God, let me escape from the addictive bondage of my sin. God, set me FREE!
... have mercy on me, a sinner!
Yes, it's true, I'm weak, I've failed, I have fallen again. But to where do I fall? Do I fall upon my own designs, into my own schemes, trying hopelessly to earn respect once again, to face God again through my own righteousness?
Or do I collapse into His arms of grace and forgiveness? Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me. Follow me. So that if I should fall back, where will I fall? Into His arms of goodness; loving, tender kindness; accepting, forgiving, beckoning; into His arms. Can't you feel the yearning in your heart? Mine pants for his 'living water.' It's not a poetic phrase that rolles off the lips, its a desperate awareness of a void and a desperate knowing of the source of fulfillment. Its a longing to taste again the most sweetest, richest, nourishing, wholesome, healing fulfilment ever experienced.
So yes, I fall. Hopelessly fall. Hopeless, until I hit the rocks. *CRASH*! I strike them, and I fall apart. His love pierces me, his blood cleanses me, I feel the scars in his hands, as he pickes me up, and stands me beside him again. Oh no! I'm not worthy. I could never be worthy! Not after what I've done. But's what he's done! Oh what he's done. Child, he says, his eyes tender, accepting, welling with tears of compassion, calling me back into his arms, back to his side.
- home - books - current thoughts - tall tales - pix - read - code - resume - contact -