The day brought some critical realizations, most of which won't lend themselves easily to a journal entry. I am more broken and sinful than I had ever imagined, but that never should have been news to me— only pride, the great self-important lie, would have me believe otherwise. My brokenness reveals my need, and my need reveals my Lord. There is mysterious glory in this.
But I do scare myself more than yesterday, and that's saying something significant. I wanted to be a better man, but better still to be honest. If I hadn't, I'd have crushed something beautiful into ashes, creating and becoming a monster. Despite my actions, there is yet beauty in this.
Uniquely hard to grasp that I could be loved as I am, not as I ought be. That's a bit of theology that seems quite acceptable and safe until I'm confronted with it in reality. Honestly, I'm not sure I've ever faced that in such a real way before now. I had no idea how to respond, except with insecurity. There is a disorienting freedom in this.
Moments of truth aren't always clean or clear. Life is messy. But I'm learning that love requires patience and sacrifice. I suspect this is what faith and hope are for. I need lots of both, and perhaps I got a fresh supply today.