I believe that everyone deserves grace... Or more like none of us deserve it, which is why we can receive it equally. It’s the only fair thing about the universe...
We have all messed up and brought God pain and sorrow, yet He still loves and forgives us unconditionally no matter how hard we’ve fallen or how far we’ve run. Nothing you have done could ever be any worse than anything I’ve done, so neither of us needs to live in fear of our mistakes ever being too big for His love to forgive. I believe this for myself and for others, but I find it interesting how much easier it is to extend this outwardly than it is to grant it internally. No matter what you’ve done, I can see God’s grace covering you. I can see His loving heart towards you and I can see His beaming smile over you when you finally come back home - that’s easy for me, and quite often a joy to watch. Yet as soon as I realize my own sin, I feel so dirty and ashamed... Like somehow I should have known better, so it’s a little harder to forgive my mistakes. Why is that??? Is it just because I know my own faults deeper than I know yours? Is it because I know how many times I’ve already had to learn this lesson and yet here we are again? While that may be true, I don’t think that’s the root of it. I think I hold myself to a higher and more critical standard than I hold others. Somehow my heart thinks that I should be the exception - the person who gets it right the first time. So then where did the grace go? It exists as a hypothetical, but it’s hard to remember when it’s actually needed. It’s important to remember that I am human too. I’m not capable of fixing myself and I’m not capable of perfection. I’m on my way towards it as I pursue relationship with my creator, but He knows how long that journey is going to take and He isn’t surprised by the hiccups that come up along the way. He is still completing the work He began in me (Philippians 1:6) - that inherently means that it’s not done yet. So if God can be patient with this lump of clay, so should I. I don’t know what struggles and battles are yet to come, and I don’t yet see what lessons I will need to learn from them. I can’t waste time beating myself up over my latest failure if I ever want to be able to get to the next one. Our lives and our successes only mean anything because of our failures. Yes, they sting and they cause damage we wish we could undo, but they are also our benchmarks; they show us the changes we can’t see along the way. They are here to allow me to appreciate how much farther I got this time since the last flop. Like a baby learning how to walk, the excitement comes from how much farther you got this time. The fact that you fell is neither surprising nor disappointing. In fact, it’s often the fall that is met with celebration because until then we were still waiting to see how far you’d make it. I have a feeling God looks at us a lot more like that than how we look at ourselves. Let’s start giving ourselves grace out of joy, not obligation. Let’s start seeing those failures as an opportunity to celebrate all the success leading up to them. Let’s see it as nothing more than the next starting point for an even better run than before. Let’s consider these trials as joys and focus on the miracle of life that God brings forth from our natural imperfections. I think then we will be able to see His heart much clearer and to enjoy the process that He sees growing inside each of us. And who knows... I might even get to a place someday where I can hear Him say “well done, good a faithful servant” and actually believe Him.
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ErikaJeremiah 29:11 Archives
March 2023
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