I don’t want to find myself here – again – but that is just where I am. I am sitting with my regret wanting to give up. I keep trying not to do this and yet, I do it – over and over again. It taunts and tears at me until I feel like I have nothing left to fight with and I crumble under its weight.
She, too, lived a broken life. A life crushed by the weight of bad choices and weak faith. On this night, she came with little more than a scarred reputation and an alabaster jar. She knew the ridicule she would encounter when she entered the room. It was hers to live every day with these people.
Yet, she came.
She came now because she wanted to know the depth and breadth of a love far greater than their whispers could ever reach. She came with a boldness that was birthed from pain. She came with a faith alive and willing to pour out. She came broken and ready to love with abandon the One who gave her the only thing worth having – redemption.
Mine has been a faith that settled for far too less – one that whimpered more of my lack than His strength. I have come carrying far more than I should because I haven’t believed that He can and will. This is the life that has been mine, not the life that should be His.
Broken and crumbled, I beg at His feet for the faith to believe beyond what I do. For a faith that trusts beyond the “what if” and has strength surpassing the “I can’t”.
It is what He has wanted all along – a broken realization that I cannot and that I have not. But a hope that He will.
Her tears were the cleansing of grace overflowing. Her alabaster jar briefly held the treasure of a faith now grasped and its fragrance of mercy now permeated the air.
Redemption came and in peace she went.
Failure seeks to break me.
He wants transform the me that is broken.
Redemption still comes – just as I am.