The day begins with beautiful purpose. The words echo in my mind
“”My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.”
Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me.”
My days are endless repetitions. My work does not end.
And I am reminded I am weak.
My heart yearns for peace, for progress, for perfection.
The cost of pride weighs heavily around my shoulders, a burden I feel slave to, a master I must maintain in the manner it’s become accustomed to.
I am weak and my heart is heavy.
The burden is heavy. I forget how to celebrate, how to embrace.
I ignore the desires of my heart, my pride beating my soul into submission.
I shudder in my weakness, and the tears flood my eyes.
I lose sight of the important things.
The moments that make a lifetime, that make love, that make joy.
The beauty of grace is in the smallest of experiences.
The value of a life is not judged by the peanut butter on the kitchen floor,
Or by the dirty clothes piled in the bathroom.
But by the sharing of the tiniest moments with someone you love.
And I learn that my weakness is not weakness.
And that learning is not confined to childhood.
Because His grace is sufficient. And His mercies are always new.