I've got a confession to make. And I am not quite sure where to begin. It feels kind of like ripping off a band-aid. The kind that has been stuck there for awhile and you know it's going to sting but you just gotta do it anyway.
I've been extremely bitter lately. I've been a bitch.
I've been a bitter bitch.
There. I've said {written?} it.
And I am not really sure how it got to this point. This
point where I am ungracious {read: not really extending grace to people who are
challenging to love}. I halfway joke about being "unchurched" but
it's not really funny.
And I have been so angry lately at the loud, outspoken
people who think that demeaning people and shaming them will lead
them to Jesus. {And I am having trouble myself living out this great
commandment to love}
It's such a vicious cycle spinning around this fallen
Eden of ours.
This morning, though, I woke up with something in my eye.
I couldn't see anything causing the irritation. But it burns and waters and
just really hurts. {Okay, God, I will deal with my own specks before pointing
out - even searching out - the logs in others' eyes}
I'm just a sinner, a dirty whore who's been forgiven, and
longing for Eden. And trying, although I fail miserably sometimes, to love
people along the way.
And if I have failed to love you as I should, my dearest
friends, please forgive me. This repentant heart of mine wants to, by grace,
love better.
And this has resonated with me: "I do not
at all understand the mystery of grace - only that it meets us where we are but
does not leave us where it found us." ~ Anne Lamott
Amen and amen.