It is true
It is true that I am awkward and unknowing. I blunder my way through conversations, making things uncomfortable, and then second guess myself for minutes, hours, days later.
It is true that I do not like the way I look. I'm tried of slaving each morning over my hair, makeup, clothes, only to feel empty and plain. I fret over my nose, my ankles, my aging.
It is true that I am wrecked with sin. It's through and through, fighting to take control of me, and sometimes I feel like it's winning. I'm drowning in imperfection. If only I could amputate it. Cut it out and be done with it.
It is true that I hurt others. I kick them, step on them, run right over them. I make others feel less than, unintelligent, wrong, and even lonely. I demand and push and tear until they are worn with trying to please me.
It is true that I am hurt. I have been run over, and I have been deceived, torn down. My flaws have been pointed out, scoffed at. I've been wrongly accused and misunderstood. Sin has hurt me.
It is true that this world is broken. People hunger, thirst, and die. Children living without parents to protect them. Women living with men who beat them. Men enslaved to addictions, cyclical prisons they cannot escape. Pain and suffering taint every nook and cranny of the earth, and I can barely stand to think of it.
Yet...
It is more true that He is pleased with me. He smiles on me and delights in me. He treasures my words to him and longs that I would only say more to him.
It is more true that I am created intentionally, fearfully and wonderfully made--nose, ankles, and all. Designed as an image to bear witness to his goodness. I radiate the truth of what I have been forgiven--from me comes the fragrance of life--life hid in Christ.
It is more true that my sins have been removed from me as far as the East is from the West. I bear no penalty, no shame, no degradation. I have been given the righteousness of Christ, and the cross has paid my debt.
It is more true that he uses my sin to make his name known. Even my transgressions work for the good of those who love Him. And when I fail, he stands in the gap to heal the hurt and cover me in the cross.
It is more true that I find joy in his presence. I persevere knowing that he fights for me, defends me, and grows me into the image of Christ. He counts my tears, promises my good, walks with me through the pain.
It is more true that He is at work to save. He grieves the brokenness and hurt, cares for each person more than I ever could. He longs for each one to know him and find life. And he is more powerful than all the brokenness. He is able, He is moving, He will be victorious.
Some truth is more true. Some truth breeds despair. But the truest truth brings hope.
Hallelujah.
It is true that I do not like the way I look. I'm tried of slaving each morning over my hair, makeup, clothes, only to feel empty and plain. I fret over my nose, my ankles, my aging.
It is true that I am wrecked with sin. It's through and through, fighting to take control of me, and sometimes I feel like it's winning. I'm drowning in imperfection. If only I could amputate it. Cut it out and be done with it.
It is true that I hurt others. I kick them, step on them, run right over them. I make others feel less than, unintelligent, wrong, and even lonely. I demand and push and tear until they are worn with trying to please me.
It is true that I am hurt. I have been run over, and I have been deceived, torn down. My flaws have been pointed out, scoffed at. I've been wrongly accused and misunderstood. Sin has hurt me.
It is true that this world is broken. People hunger, thirst, and die. Children living without parents to protect them. Women living with men who beat them. Men enslaved to addictions, cyclical prisons they cannot escape. Pain and suffering taint every nook and cranny of the earth, and I can barely stand to think of it.
Yet...
It is more true that He is pleased with me. He smiles on me and delights in me. He treasures my words to him and longs that I would only say more to him.
It is more true that I am created intentionally, fearfully and wonderfully made--nose, ankles, and all. Designed as an image to bear witness to his goodness. I radiate the truth of what I have been forgiven--from me comes the fragrance of life--life hid in Christ.
It is more true that my sins have been removed from me as far as the East is from the West. I bear no penalty, no shame, no degradation. I have been given the righteousness of Christ, and the cross has paid my debt.
It is more true that he uses my sin to make his name known. Even my transgressions work for the good of those who love Him. And when I fail, he stands in the gap to heal the hurt and cover me in the cross.
It is more true that I find joy in his presence. I persevere knowing that he fights for me, defends me, and grows me into the image of Christ. He counts my tears, promises my good, walks with me through the pain.
It is more true that He is at work to save. He grieves the brokenness and hurt, cares for each person more than I ever could. He longs for each one to know him and find life. And he is more powerful than all the brokenness. He is able, He is moving, He will be victorious.
Some truth is more true. Some truth breeds despair. But the truest truth brings hope.
Hallelujah.
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