You know, tomorrow’s the interview. The light at the end of the tunnel, I hope. How it would be nice to find a job that would allow me to serve Matt as well in our marriage. It’s odd how “ready” and yet completely unprepared one feels at the completion of a “lifegoal“. But the diploma has yet to be hung… and already burnout ensues. I wish I felt like what I did mattered to the child who repetitively cussed me out as I bent over backward to do things for her. Miles on end I drove for her “convenience” only to sit in an empty apartment and return in two hours of traffic. It’s moments like those that you really want to throw the towel in on a kid. You want to loose your mind and not take it anymore.
God opened my eyes on the last car-ride home. I tried so hard for the pavement not to swallow my character. I really hate rush-hour. And in the frustrated silence He reminded me that I was that undesirable in my sin. I was that hate-worthy and filthy. I spoke such vulgar, hateful words defying the very help I needed. And yet He loved me.
Sin is sin. I’d love to stand at her door pointing telling God that there’s no way I am that sinful. There’s no way my sin looks as bad as that. But how can this unjust one dare define justice and righteousness?
It’s ugly to think that my sin looks the same way to my Father. How filthy and un-me I feel at that thought. Yet it is true. Sin is sin. And it’s ugly. And it dirties the beautiful gown of Christ’s Bride. No sin is too dirty for our Savior to clean. But all sin is too dirty for our character growth. And it’s in the time of mind-renewing that the Lord chose on I-75 that repentance once-again looked as necessary as it is.
And the child who refuses help, is most needy of all.
Only there’s nothing I can do to change her.
It’s only the Lord’s work.
Would You, Lord? I don’t have to be there to see it.
But would You please help her fall at Your feet?
-No matter where I end up… Lord, please use me.-