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Hard beauty

Yesterday was intense at work. Some hard conversations left our pastor convicted about sin in his life. Nothing scandalous, but the kind of stuff we all wrestle with (or don't) in our own lives. Seeing him broken was tough, but beautifully so. God's work is evident and His hope sure. Facing the reality of our screwed-up lives leaves no hope but the gospel. Beautiful.

I want to close the doors to that kind of beauty in my life. I don't want to face my sin, and I certainly don't want to follow being called out of it. I'm a wallower (a characteristic shared with much of the race), and even though I may cry out, "Save me!," I am, at my very best, hesitant to grasp the nail-scarred hand eternally and lovingly extended into my mess.

Thankfully, He usually picks me up instead.

Comments

"...even though I may cry out, "Save me!," I am, at my very best, hesitant to grasp the nail-scarred hand eternally and lovingly extended into my mess."

Well-said, I thank you for sharing this. It is indeed true of the human race; I think that wallowing allows us to turn a blind eye to the needs around us. Sort of a selfish avoidance mechanism to which we all fall prey.