Author Archives: Meredith Bernard

Old paths.

Posted on by under Daily Walk, Sin Life

I’ve been reminded this weekend of some things. As much as I’d like to think that there are areas of my life that I have “moved on” from, there are still wounds that haven’t healed. Still old paths I find myself realizing I wish had never been trod, but knowing without those paths, I wouldn’t be on the road I’m on today. All it takes is a song on the radio or a face in a gas station to conjure old memories, and take me back to a time and place I thought I had “settled.” I was over that. Or at least I thought I was.

To see a face from my past, run back to my car, hide until they are gone and then go in the store is not a sure sign that “all is well.”  Agree?  I’m sure I’m the only one who has ever done such a thing. It was an eye-opener for me, though. And it got under my skin.  To the place I don’t like to go. The place I have worked very hard to bury. Deep.

What is it about those painful past roads in life that we want so badly to forget and move on and never look back, but inevitably we are forced to?

Perhaps it is so we DON’T forget.

Not saying living in the past is the answer. Surely, it’s not. But a good shot of remembering where we came from and how far we have come is not so bad either.

Paul says in Romans 6:20-23,

“For when you were slaves of sin, you were free in regards to righteousness. But what fruit were you getting at that time from the things of which you are now ashamed? For the end of those things is death. But now that you have been set free from sin and have become slaves of God, the fruit you get leads to sanctification and its end, eternal life. For the wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

That’s a healthy dose of scripture for me today. A great reminder for me this morning.

Yes, I’ve sinned. Yes, I was a slave to my sin for a long, long time. Yes, I cannot deny that path or the choices I made. I was very fruitful in my sin and I was on the road to death. I was on the road to death.

BUT, I have now been SET FREE and am a slave to sin no longer.
I am a slave of God and my fruit is now life giving.
Life sanctifying…being made new.
Set apart for a higher calling. For LIFE. Not just a full life here, but life everlasting.

I think God allows us to be reminded of where we’ve been so we remember how far we’ve come.

And if you haven’t made the choice for Life, it’s not to late.

It’s never too late until it’s too late.

If you are reading this, it’s not too late. If God is calling you, it’s not too late.

God is the great path changer.  Where He leads is always better than where we think we want to go. Take it from a woman who knows. She’s followed the road to the greener grass only to find it wasn’t green at all.

The road from the old path to the new path isn’t always easy. It’s isn’t always smooth. It certainly isn’t the same path that everyone else is on. But it’s the RIGHT path. The peaceful path. The life-giving path. The ONLY path worth taking.

And it’s as much your choice as it was mine. Never be deceived, we choose our path. We may not choose what road blocks we will face on the path, but we choose which path we take. And there is only One path that comes with a constant companion to get you over and through the road blocks.

Rest in that today, friend. Old paths remind. Don’t stay on them. Learn. Grow. Then choose the path that leads to Life and GO.

Graciously,
Meredith

The carousel life.

Posted on by under Motherhood, Perfectly Imperfect, Prayers

My kids favorite ride at the fair is the carousel. Round and round, up and down. Constantly spinning…and going nowhere.

I can’t help but think lately my life is a lot like that carousel.  Round and round I go. And never getting anywhere.

Pretty from a distance. All sparkly, shiny and perfect. But upon closer inspection, you find the dents, scratches and realize that pretty little pony is actually a hard, lifeless piece of plastic with lots of grimy germs from dirty little hands holding on for dear life.

Yes, I feel like that pony on the carousel some days. Hanging on for dear life. Always spinning and really getting nowhere.

Pretty on the outside (some days) and others…not so much. And if you actually got close enough you would see the dents and scratches. If you were one of the “fortunate” few I ever let get that close. That’s not what I want you to see, though. I don’t want you to know that I struggle.  I fail. I fall. I have lots of dents and scratches. And I can be pretty hard sometimes.

Hard to love. Hard to befriend. Hard on you. Hard on myself.

Coffee only has two ingredients, as I was reminded the other morning. So why would it be so hard for me to remember to include the water when making coffee the night before? Shouldn’t be, I said. Shouldn’t be.

Round and round and going nowhere.

My mind is a fog.  I hear screaming children. My phone keeps beeping. My computer constantly calls me to “check-in.” Where are all of my husbands clothes? I know I just washed, but somehow there are seven dirty shirts. Did I miss a day this week? Did I miss the entire week? Where was I?

Hard on myself. I should be better at this than I am. I should have this “all together” now. I am a strong woman. No roaring here. Just a few racking sobs.

Then my pity party reaches it peak. I deserve better than this. I work hard and nobody appreciates it. I cook (supper…and if you’re lucky you get an egg in the morning). I clean (occasionally). I wash your clothes (when I remember).

I  love you. I really, really love you. I want to be more for you. For our family. For my friends. For myself.

Then I realize, that’s the problem. I’m so busy just being busy, I’m not living. Not really living. Not for Who I’m supposed to be living for. I get caught up in all the distractions and forget what I’m really here for.

My life is not my own. It will keep going round and round and going nowhere.
If I let it.

One day I have to get off the carousel. I have to say that the ride is over.

I have to grow up. And start living for the One who gave me Life.

So today I want to make a commitment to get off the ride.

I know who I am. Jesus knows who I am. I can rest in the assurance I was made by a Creator that put me together just exactly how He wanted me to be.

And so can you.

“…I am fearfully and wonderfully made… ” Psalm 139:14

What a relief, I am fearfully and wonderfully made. What does that mean? It means my Creator put time and energy and thought into my existence. My being. My God-breathed life. He made me to live. For Him. Through Him. Not to spend my existence going round and round, getting nowhere, doing a million things and at the same time doing nothing.

We may be tempted to get back on the ride. It looks so pretty, doesn’t it? It beckons to us just like that carousel at the fair calls my children. But it’s not a ride that takes us anywhere.

Take your dented, scratched, perfectly imperfect self and get off the ride.
I say to myself. Get off the ride.

All the business of life just keeps us from going where we really need to go.

And doing what we really need to be doing.

Seeing what we really need to be seeing.

Feeling what we really need to be feeling.

I want to be here for my family. REALLY be here. Not just my body, but my mind and my soul.

I want to SEE all there is to see that needs to be seen.
My hurting friend, my lonely child, my neglected husband.

I want to FEEL what I need to feel. Not the numbness that comes with being “out of touch.”

I offer a prayer for me and for you if you ever find yourself where I have…

Father God,

Help me to BE present. In the here and now. To experience what YOU have prepared for me to be a part of. I know you are working around me. All times. All ways. And at this very moment you have something for me to do. Lord, don’t let me be too busy that I miss it. That I miss out on the small moments that make up the whole. That I would look back one day and say I missed it. I was there, but I wasn’t’ there. I want to be HERE NOW. I want to FEEL NOW. I want to SEE NOW. With your hands, your eyes, your heart. Father, for lack of a better way to ask, I just ask you to HELP me. Help me SEE. FEEL. BE. I ask for GRACE to live for today, not in yesterday or for tomorrow, but FOR TODAY. One moment at a time. For the ones you GAVE me. The little arrows in my quiver you gave just. to. me. Created in your image. Help me lead them to their Father, that one day they would truly be YOUR children. That’s my call. That’s my job. Dear God, don’t let me ever forget that. To never get too busy to remember that.

Your daughter asks forgiveness for living so hurriedly. For missing what has been right in front of me. For getting so caught up in self, I forgot who self was.

In Jesus Name I Pray,
AMEN

Clean laundry.

Posted on by under Daily Walk, Perfectly Imperfect, Sin Life

Another confession about me. I’m a stuffer.

What kind of stuffer, you ask? Like you stuff your face with food? Well, yes, I do that. A lot. It’s another form of therapy for me. But no, I’m referring to something much worse than that.

I stuff “stuff.”

All kinds of stuff. Stuff that happens to me that I really want to blow up and spit back at whoever it came from…but I don’t. (Not usually, anyway). I stuff it. Maybe not all neat and tidy. But I stuff it. Where I can find it, but nobody else can.

I know exactly where the stuff in me is and I can readily pull it out if needed, but mostly I just keep it there, where it doesn’t hurt anybody else.

If you tell me something that “hurts,” I can put it in the “hurt” pile and you and I can keep on moving along. I promise I won’t bring it back up, I’ll just stuff it. But if I do ever need to bring it back up…I readily can.

If you say something that makes me “angry,” I can put that in the “angry” pile and you and I can keep on moving along (possibly after a bit of a silent treatment…but it won’t last forever.) That can be a bit of a sloppy pile, but it’s tucked away where you won’t be affected by it, either.

But then one day, after all the stuff has been stuffed, and my piles get too big, it’s time to take them to the cleaners. I can’t stuff anymore. Like that basket of clothes that the lid won’t close on and you realize you can’t put anymore in until you wash what’s already stuffed inside.

So I have to take them out. One by one by one. And put them in the washing machine and clean them. And then air them out to dry. Well, this is what I should do anyway. A lot of times, they just pile up and up and up and then I implode.  Or explode.

My husband likes to say “a five gallon bucket will only hold five gallons.” Yeah, I’ve heard that one a lot. For some reason, I have this uncanny ability to stuff things. Emotional. Physical. It’s just something I do. I stuff.

So, when my bucket gets full and it can’t hold anymore, I often choose the wrong course of action and explode.

It’s all a girl can do somedays.

And for a minute I feel better. But whoever and whatever was in the general vicinity is now dirty from my explosion. Or wet from the “ugly cry.”

I really want to become better at taking my dirty piles and sorting them. One by one by one. Washing them clean with thought and forgiveness and Truth. Then I can air them out after they are cleaned. And one day I hope that by learning to do this, my piles won’t get so big in the first place. Then I can leave room for peace and contentment and a clean heart. Instead of a dirty heart.

By stuffing so much “ick” inside me, it can’t help but bleed over to other parts of me.

My attitude. My speech. My ability to love and forgive. My ability to TRUST. I seem to have a lack of that lately.

Why is it so hard to believe that God will take care of me, when He has never proven He won’t? It just is for me. I admit that. There is another confession. I am a worrier. Big time at times. It is a super-duper horrible flaw passed from one generation to the next.

I am also a recovering control-freak. I say “recovering,” because at least I want to be recovering from it.

I lose all control when I feel like I’ve lost all control.

That’s why quitting my full-time job with benefits most people would die for, to stay home and be a mother and teacher to my two children and pursue a photography dream was absolutely crazy. And I knew the day would come that I would second guess my decision. Did I really do what God was leading me to do? Will the money really come that we need to buy gas, groceries and pay insurance…much less keep the lights on and the telephone working?

So far it has. And I have to believe it will.

This post is for me today. Maybe someone else is struggling with their faith. I know through my reading in Genesis recently, so many of God’s huge “heroes of the Faith” struggled, too. Abraham and Sarah chose to take God’s promise for a baby into their own hands. It created heartache and undue stress. Find that story here.

Good reminder. Stay out of God’s way.

When He promises to do something…He will. In His time. In His way.

Sigh.

Yes, I need that reminder. Often.

I’m not perfect. Just perfectly imperfect, remember? And I’m working out my faith daily.  One tedious step at a time. Sometimes one needless worry at a time.

I’m working on it. He’s working on me. Together, with His help, I pray I’ll be better at it tomorrow than today.

But I have to take it one day at at time. I just need enough faith for today. Tomorrow will take care of itself.

Now, I think I’ll go clean some laundry.

Graciously,
Meredith

When your best isn’t good enough.

Posted on by under Perfectly Imperfect, Religion, Sin Life

I’ve heard it. I’ve said it.

I’ve heard it a lot lately. Different people from different walks of life.

Completey separated. Sharing the same struggles. It never fails to amaze me how different we can be and yet so much the same.

“Nothing I do is right. I cannot please anyone. I don’t even know what is right anymore. I’m just not sure God even hears my prayers.”

Been there? I have. And it’s a dark, lonely place to be. It’s the pit. Not “the pits”, as we say. But literally, the pit.

Our own hell on earth. And if we live long enough, we are all sure to fall in it at some point. For some unfortunate few, more than once in a lifetime. And for some it’s a daily hell.

Nobody knows. Nobody understands. Nobody can reach me.

I like it that way. Even if they could reach me, they wouldn’t have a rope strong enough or long enough to pull me out. I’ll just stay here. And die here.

That’s a a dangerous place to be. That’s a dangerous place to stay.

What others see as possible they see as impossible. What others see as “petty”, they see as earth shattering.

I made it out of my pit. Not alone. And not without a fight. But I made  it out.

I know others who didn’t.

I don’t want to know anyone else or love anyone else who doesn’t make it out of the pit. I will not give up on them without a fight. And I’m just human.

There is One who will also not give up on you in the pit without a fight. His rope is always long enough. Always strong enough. He is always there. Even when nobody else is. He always knows what you are feeling. Because He has felt it too.

Rejection. Despair. Grief. Anguish. Betrayal. Denial. Abandonment.

When the entire weight of the worlds sins were heaped on his gasping, bloody body, His one source of Life and Strength and Wisdom left him. Left him to die alone.

What’s so good about that? How could God abandon his Son when He needed Him most?

He did it so you and I would never experience that. We would never be alone. We would never have to know the true weight of our sin because He became our sin. Through his death and his resurrection we don’t  have to know death.

We may choose death. By denying the One who died so we don’t have to. But that’s our choice.

In turn, we can choose to live. We can choose to accept what’s been given for us.

We can take the rope handed to us and begin the dirty, hard, long and sometimes treacherous climb out of the pit. Towards the light.

We’ve been promised a way out. And God doesn’t lie. It’s impossible for God to lie. It’s not His nature. It’s our nature. Not His nature.

Remember that if you ever find yourself in the pit. Remind someone you know that is in the pit.

Our best doesn’t have to be good enough. Jesus’ best was good enough for all of us. And there is a way out. Into the Light.

Psalm 40:2 (NIV)

He lifted me out of the slimy pit, out of the mud and mire; he set my feet on a rock and gave me a firm place to stand.

John 8:12 (ESV)

Again Jesus spoke to them, saying, “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will not walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.”

The masks we wear.

Posted on by under Daily Walk, Perfectly Imperfect, Religion

I have a confession. I am officially “recovering” from many things in my life.

I’m a recovering perfectionist. A recovering do-gooder. A recovering wine lover. A recovering people pleaser.

I have always been good at making people believe I was who they thought I was. Who I thought they wanted me to be.

In the fray, I’ve become good at wearing a mask. Sometimes more than one mask. Masks are safe. They hide the ugly. Or at least the perceived ugly.

I’m reading (loosely termed) a book by Emily P. Freeman, “Grace for the Good Girl.” That is in-between toddler meltdowns, World War III stand-offs and WW wrestling match refereeing. I digress.  I am slowly reading this book and it is hitting home in a lot of ways. Not so great ways, but it’s making me think. And thus write. And I’m only in chapter 4, so there may be more of this book/soul review to come.

She is discussing the masks that “good girls” wear and I am finding I have worn or still wear so many on so many days. It’s so easy to put our worth in things other than what Jesus says is beautiful and right and lovely. It’s also easy to let our emotions get the best of us. It certainly is for me.

I quote Emily,

“Our fluctuating humanness is there on purpose, to remind us of our need and draw us to the One who can meet it.”

She goes on to talk about our emotions and that we may not know how or why they come, but we have to admit we have them and to embrace them.

Um, yes. I have emotions. Lots of them. And anyone in my household could attest to how fast and furious they can change. And this has been bothering me. A lot. I’m not supposed to be angry. I’m not supposed to struggle with depression. I’m not supposed to be “blah” on any given day for no given reason. But somedays I just am.

And these great words from this soul sister has reminded me why. Newsflash! I’m not supposed to get through this thing we call life on my own.  I’m supposed to turn to the One who created me, with every given emotion I feel and live…the good, the bad and the ugly.

Of course in the heat of the moment or depth of discouragement, Jesus is at times the last person I want to turn to. I don’t even know why. My own selfish pride, I suppose. I’m supposed to be able to fix things myself. But like I mentioned in An Island, there comes a time when I realize myself is not enough. I can’t do it alone. Then I turn to the One who can and will give me help.

Sometimes all I can muster is a simple, but earnest, “Help me. Father, please just help me.”

And He does. And there is comfort again. And there is hope again.

And I believe our Father loves a simple plea for help from His children. Knowing we never realize His worth and our need for Him until we finally offer that plea. And in Him we find the strength we need to climb another mountain. And referee another fight. And cook another meal for people who may not seem to care.

He cares. He knows. He loves you.  And if you are a recovering mask wearer like me, stay strong. Keep it off when you can. And when you forget or your emotions get the best of you…remember Who to turn to.

What a boring world it would be if we had no emotions. God gave them to us for a reason. He certainly wants us to experience them and find ways to harness them for His glory. And when we can’t, He wants us to come to Him for help. So we can go back out and finish the good work He has started in us.

I love being able to love. I love being able to cry. I thank my God that I can feel joy and even sadness. It shapes who I am. It makes me real. It gives me a reason to take the mask off. And just be me. And for you to just be you. Your Father wouldn’t have it any other way.

Love and Grace to my fellow recovering mask-wearers,
Meredith

He is making all things New.

Posted on by under Daily Walk

Snow. Who doesn’t love snow? Don’t answer that if you don’t love snow. I live in a place that only sees one or two snows a year. And I love snow. And so do my children. Who have been asking when it was going to snow since October, maybe? I lose track. A long time, anyway.

I don’t know why I love snow so much. The aftermath is never fun. Mud. Muck. Wet and cold.

I think it’s the anticipation. And then seeing it fall.

Beautiful. White. Clean. Fresh. Wholesome. Snow.

It just makes my heart happy. Then to wake up and see the ground and trees and everything covered in a beautiful white God-given blanket. It stirs me. And makes me feel alive. And remember that God is truly Good. And He is making all things New.

Now and forever. New. There is Hope.

Just like the snowfall covers the barren ground, God can come blanket your barrenness. My barrenness. He wants to. He wants to make you New. He is making me New. It’s a process. He is making.

And one day, one glorious day, He will make all things new again. I can’t wait for that day. I hold fast for that day. When all will be made new. Including me. Yes, there is Hope.

Revelation 21:5 The Message (MSG)

3-5 I heard a voice thunder from the Throne: “Look! Look! God has moved into the neighborhood, making his home with men and women! They’re his people, he’s their God. He’ll wipe every tear from their eyes. Death is gone for good—tears gone, crying gone, pain gone—all the first order of things gone.” The Enthroned continued, “Look! I’m making everything new. Write it all down—each word dependable and accurate.”

Words.

Posted on by under Daily Walk

Words. Something we ALL have in common.We all use them. We’ve all been blessed by them. We’ve all been torn down by them. We know they are powerful. But do we KNOW how powerful they are? How powerful they can be?

The biggest reason I started this blog was because at any given moment, I feel like I have a million words floating around my head that need a place to rest. To come alive. To be shared. And maybe sometimes not be shared. Writing is my therapy. It allows me to say what I can’t easily say. And I have complete control. Another fault of mine. I need to be in control. Note that…I’m a recovering control freak. Through writing, I can purposefully put my words together and hopefully in some cohesiveness that makes sense. At least to me, maybe not to you. If not to you, I apologize. I can only write what makes sense to me and hope it resonates with someone else who may be in the same place as me…or has been there…or is heading there.

In beginning this blogging journey, I also want to be more purposeful with the words that do come out of my mouth. I have a sign hanging above my closet door, so I will see it every morning as I get ready to head into the world…or at least into my own little world. It says, “Lord help my words to be tender today, for tomorrow I may have to eat them.” And yes, I’ve eaten plenty of words in my lifetime.  More than I care to count or remember.

Jesus had something to say about words, too. In fact, here is an exhaustive list of 38 verses about words from God’s Word.

In fact, another name given for Jesus is The Word.

John 1:1
“In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.” (Emphasis my own.)

Wow, there’s something to mull over. Jesus is considered the Word and He was with God in the beginning and in fact, He was God. I really have no words to help that make sense. It just is what it is and I believe it is because God said so.

In any case, words ARE important. We use them by the millions. Some of us daily by the millions. (Ahem…)

And perhaps, some of the most important words we choose to use are the ones we don’t say.

There can be as much or more power in the unspoken and unwritten words as those that we see and hear. This is another area in my life I’m learning to harness. The ability to just. shut. up.

Words matter. They count. I want mine to count for more than just a lot of hot air. I want my words to lift up, not tear down. I want my words to bring glory to my Father. I want my words to breathe life, not suck it out. Lofty goals for a “wordy” girl. Or hopefully, a reforming “wordy” girl.

I feel like this post is a bit wordy. Hopefully someone will get something from it. If not, at least I got it out of my head. 😉

An Island.

Posted on by under Religion, Sin Life

Islands have always intrigued me.  There is an island in front of the one place on earth that means more to me than anywhere. A tiny dot on the Pamlico Sound in eastern North Carolina called Jarvis Landing. My mom grew up there and my brother, cousins and I were fortunate enough to spend summers of our childhood along the river shore. The island in the river is called Indian Island. An apt name, as one time coastal indians inhabited it. Also an apt name, as it always had an air of mystery to me. It was just close enough to always be in sight and seemingly at arms length, but just far enough away to be out of reach. You could get to it by boat, but tale is the mosquitoes were big enough to eat you alive if you ventured out onto the shore. And there were stories of teens in the past swimming to the island. Not us, I assure you.

The thing about an island is that it stands alone.

Embraced by water, yet always alone.  Unto itself. Different. Set apart.

Some days I feel like an island. Different than everyone else. Knowing what I know about myself and perceiving nobody else could possibly be like me. Feel like me. Share my pain and struggles. Have the same story.

But I know this isn’t true, either. There are people that have the same story. I was reminded of one this morning in church. She was an outcast. She lived a life nobody accepted, except those that took advantage of what she had to give.  She was the one nobody wanted to associate with. The one with the scarlet letter around her neck that was both invisible, yet clearly seen. She wore her rejection in the way she carried herself, the lack of eye contact she made, the time of day she drew her water so as not to meet anyone else.  She was rejected by people who were supposed to be “her people.”  Then one day, one very ordinary day, she changed. She was offered “living water” by a man she had never met, but she knew he was different. He knew her story. He knew her sins. And He didn’t reject her. He loved her. She left the well that day different. Changed. Set apart. I don’t know the rest of her story, but I don’t have to. I know the best part. The part where she found grace and redemption at the feet of her Savior.

I know that part of her story personally.  I have lived it. I have my own scarlet letter. I have my own sin past. I have my own sin struggles. But I’ve been to the well. And Jesus met me there, too. My well happened to be sitting on a rock along a creek, no less. And on that rock, with water rushing by, I also accepted Jesus’ gift of living water. It didn’t make me a better person. It made me a new person. With a new identity. It was only after coming to the end of myself that I was able to realize I couldn’t make it through my life on my own terms. My way was. not. working. Only after giving myself up and surrendering to my Savior, did I find myself. I did not give up on myself…I gave myself up.

I need that reminder from time to time. That I’m not who I was then. I’m a new person. My past does not define me. It has a lot to do with who I am today, but it does not define me. Not now it doesn’t. Before Jesus…my past was my identity. After Jesus…He is my identity. I may be tricked into thinking different, but that is a lie straight out of hell.

I am an island, after all. I am different. I am set apart. I am being made new.

Read John 4.

Perfectly Imperfect.

Posted on by under Daily Walk, Perfectly Imperfect, Religion

In so many ways, on so many days…I long…I strive to be perfect.
The perfect mother. The perfect wife. The perfect friend. The perfect Christian.
Even when I know in my head and even in my heart that it is not attainable. I still want to be.

In so many ways, on so many days…I fail. Miserably.

Sometimes I feel like I live in a completely false world. Like we all live in a completely false world.

We share only what we want others to “like” on Facebook.
We tweet only the wittiest comments and quotable quotes.
We instagram the photos we know will be “hearted”.

I am human. I want to be liked. I want to be accepted. I want to BE what I’m supposed to BE.

So…on days like today, when I completely mess up at this gift of motherhood and yell at my kids for just being kids…it hurts.

And on days like today, when I lose my temper with my husband and can’t let the “small stuff” go…it hurts.

You see, the problem with living in a falsely perfect world, is that we aren’t perfect. And when our expectations are set on being perfect, eventually we fail and we fall. And in falling, we become susceptible to all kinds of temptations.

Satan has us right where he wants us. Living a lie. Then when the lie melts before our eyes, we are made vulnerable. Vulnerable to anything but good. Satan is our worst enemy. Not our rebellious two-year old. Not our uncooperative husbands. Not our crazy family. Satan alone. He is like a thief…that comes to steal. kill. and destroy. He hates me. He hates you. He hates our marriages and our families. He especially hates our children.

John 10:10 (ESV)
10 The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy…

So where is my hope? If this is my life and the world I live in, how can I ever be free? In my life, it looks like this…

FORGIVENESS.

I have to forgive myself. I have to seek forgiveness from those I’ve wronged.  And in asking and receiving forgiveness, there is freedom. I’m getting very good at asking forgiveness from my husband and my kids. I hope I only get better.

And then the rest of the story…

John 10:10 (ESV)
10 The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they may have life and have it abundantly.

Instead of living daily in defeat from being imperfect, why not try living life IN the only ONE who was and is Perfect, and claiming our perfect imperfection.  A life completely given to Jesus is the only life with an ounce of hope of making it through this perfectly imperfect world and bodies we inhabit.

Satan makes a lot of promises. He only carries through on what benefits his goals to steal, kill and destroy. God also makes a lot of promises to us in His Word. God’s promises are always fulfilled. Always true. Always just right. And He promises that IN JESUS we can have life and have it abundant. Not perfect. But he also says that in our weakness, He is made strong. Well folks, I give God plenty of opportunities to show his strength. And He does. And He will. He said so. And He’s proven it over and over again.

So, will I ever be perfect? No. Will I fail daily? Yes. But the more I can seek refuge in Jesus and forgiveness when it’s needed, the more complete my life will become. There will I find rest. There will I find peace. There will I find joy. And all in perfect imperfection.

Take heart friends. It’s perfectly ok. 😉

Prayer for Today.

Posted on by under Prayers

Dear Father,

This morning I give you praise. Praise for your all-knowing, ever-present existence. In  you and you alone was everything I know to be true and everything I will never understand, created. You spoke and it was. You speak and it is.

I give you thanks for your unending mercies that our mine every morning…if I choose to live in them.  For immeasurable grace I don’t deserve, but you supply anyway. Gratitude for all that I have because you have provided. You alone. Not I. But you.

I ask forgiveness for my pride that daily asserts itself and tempts me to forget Whose I am. To Whom I owe my life. My everything. I truly do need you every hour, as the song implies. I need you every second of every day, as I often forget. Father, forgive me.

Today I want to intentionally remember You. Remember Who created me. Remember Who died for me. Remember that you have placed people, little people, in my life for training and equipping for your purposes. I pray that through your Word and Holy Spirit I will be able to make a step in the right direction. Just today. I need your help. Today.

In the Blessed name of Jesus I offer this prayer,
Amen

Lamentations 3:22 (ESV)

22 The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases;[a]
his mercies never come to an end;