I don’t understand how you can still love me. Everyday the same things, the same mistakes, the same struggles, the same warnings that I conveniently ignore. It’s not that I want to do these things, and yet, I still do. And I don’t understand. I don’t understand why I do them, and how you can still love me.
Everyday struggles, every minute struggles, knowing what is right, desiring to do what is right, and yet doing what I hate. Doing what you hate. And still you love me…unfailingly.
When will I understand that you call me Holy, that I am Sought After, that I am no longer deserted? When will that sink in until it permeates every part of me, even the depths and ugliness of my failures? I fear tomorrow will be more of the same.
And yet, in one magnificent moment, in one great act of sacrifice, selflessness, holy grandeur, you took my wretchedness upon yourself and called me, “Mine.”
Selfishly, I ask you to do it again… to make me new again, to wash of all of this self-deprecating, guilt-inducing, heart-wrenching wickedness from me…again. But you say no. That it is finished. It can’t be undone or redone. Through my despair You remind me that You have swept away my offenses like a cloud, my sins like the morning mist. “Return to me,” you say again.
Your invitation draws me back to You and in the comfort of Your arms I am reminded that you have already redeemed this everyday failure.
(Romans 7:14-16, Exodus 15:13, Isaiah 43:1, Isaiah 44:22, Isaiah 62:12, Galations 3:13)