Pieces of defeat litter the trail behind me.
In the past couple of weeks, I’ve felt failure after failure. I’ve been too neglectful in my marriage, too hasty in my parenting, too self-focused, done too much in my own strength, too little in His.
The couple of victories I’ve recognized seem so small in comparison to all my downfalls.
I see my lack, His abundance, and realize anew that in mountain-top celebration or valley frustration, it always comes back to His grace.
My lack of ability to walk this spiritual journey on my own shows me my great need for it. Those successes I recognize remind me that it’s only through Him I succeed.
I remind myself that His grace, it’s sufficient; that His strength, it’s made perfect in my weakness. It’s even grace to see my weakness, to know I need His strength. Let me see that more in the moment, less after the fact.
The grace that saved me is the grace that keeps me, that walks me through this day of packing lunches and cleaning bathrooms and correcting children’s attitudes and praying for friends and smiling at strangers.
My emptiness and unworthiness, filled by His wholeness and holiness, brings me back to His grace, the ever-ready fountain for my need.