Never Worthy, Always Loved

(photocredit)

We'll make this a straight-talk Sunday. I have some things to say tonight.

Sometimes I get so emotionally worked up about something that I can only seem to express it poetically. Case en point, my last post. I've been attending an evangelism class at church and it's been on my heart to... I don't even know how to express it. It's like a desire for God to change my heart toward evangelism. I feel like I might be reaching the cusp of a change. I'm stretching, but it's scary.

I'm also getting a little freaked out because my five mile race is tomorrow. You have to know something about me. I never, never never in a million years would've thought of myself as a runner. If you would've asked my ten-year-old, ankle-length dress-wearing, pigtail-adorned self nine years ago if I'd ever be a runner, I don't even know how I would've responded. If you had been a stranger, I would've run away (yes, social issues plagued me). Anyway, suffice it to say, nerves aside, I'm excited. It's early so hopefully it won't be too hot. I planned a breakfast for "optimal fueling".

1) caffeinated coffee

2) oatmeal with cocoa and honey topped with peanut butter and cottage cheese

One more thing. One of my goals for June was to read Dug Down Deep, but I'd removed it from the goal list because I didn't have it. Amazingly enough, I found it in our church library and managed to read it in two days, thereby reaching my goal. I definitely recommend this book, especially if you're someone who's grown up in the church. However, I also picked up the book Death By Love by Mark Driscoll. As I read, this feeling of heaviness came over me. In his trademark nontraditional approach, Driscoll talks about the death of Jesus and makes it very vivid. The gritty horror of dying on a cross hit me.

I tried to identify why I was feeling so burdened. It seemed gross and unfair for Jesus' death to be so drawn out. He was really bleeding out, pushing up, struggling for breath while fighting a myriad of horrific emotions. I was feeling like maybe my sins weren't that bad and it didn't have to be that dramatic and awful. But it did. My sins really do deserve that much suffering. My sins deserve rivers of gushing blood, excruciating pain, wrenching separation from God. I am as bad as I can imagine. I am worse.

I've been saved for thirteen years, but I struggle with pride. When I accept God's version of the story, I can take another step towards humility.

I have never been worthy, but I have always been loved.

R<3

thankful for so many things! -

475 my mum coming to pray for me before bed

476 a kitchen with lots of counterspace

477 God being bigger than fear

478 sister-date writing poetry

479 free tire changing service by Andrew

480 our church library

481 freeways

482 footrubs from my baby sis

483 having a family to say goodnight to

484 getting up early with my mum and Jak

485 my brother loaning me his ipod

486 a productive day despite not feeling tip-top

487 feeling a bit of how much I need God

488 an Oma who loves me and Jesus

489 that God's name is a strong tower

490 a well-built house

491 strawberry season

492 rebuke because it grows faith

493 having a church who loves me

494 getting hugs from the Prince, Princess and Kiddo at church

495 senior citizens who drive well