I will readily confess: I am a horrible blogger.
But here we go,
I wish life was more like sketching with a pencil and less like writing with a permanent marker.
Anger and offense fills my heart and words slide from my lips escaping into the air and hitting the floor. A line in my story is scrawled. An opportunity to show love is presented to me and I turn and pretend I saw nothing, imagining that I like the Pharisee and the Sadducee have more important things to do. An ugly mark is etched into my life that no amount of scrubbing with erase.
We want to know more when we can't even seem to get the first two commands right....
The older I get, the longer I walk, the more mistakes I make: the higher my awe and appreciation for grace springs.
I am the sum of failing and of grace.
Oh, thank God for grace.