I’m a wallower.
I wallow in my mistakes, my failures, my weaknesses and my inconsistencies.
When life is hard and I get stressed, I feel like a failure for not trusting God.
When I get mad and yell at my kids, I feel like a miserable mess as a mother.
When I forget to make the sandwich my hubby asked me to make him for breakfast because a million other little things happened between his request and my way to the kitchen, I feel like a sorry wife.
And then I wallow.
I hear the voices that accuse and slash my spirit with lies and half-truths, and they wrap around me like twisting vines, pulling me down into a pit of darkness and despair.
But there is always a hand of Grace reaching down to help me up.
HIS hands of grace, always reaching for me to untangle the lies and untwist the falsehood that I so easily embrace.
At times, I swat his hands away. “No, I don’t deserve help!” I shout against His willingness to rescue me. And yet he persists.
Sometimes, He has to allow me to turn and pull against the vines as I struggle to break free, knowing my attempts to free myself only cause more cuts and scrapes. So he stands waiting for me to give up.
And when I give up, it is His hands of Grace that unwrap and uncover me. It is HIS hands of Grace that pour soothing Spirit oil on my wounds and heals them with Truth.
When life knocks you down – His Grace is the hand that reaches for you. Grace is the Hand that picks you up.
If a man has a hundred sheep and one of them wanders away, what will he do? Won’t he leave the ninety-nine others on the hills and go out to search for the one that is lost? And if he finds it, I tell you the truth, he will rejoice over it more than over the ninety-nine that didn’t wander away! In the same way, it is not my heavenly Father’s will that even one of these little ones should perish. Matthew 18:12-14