In the middle of the night I was wrestling with God. One more day of not being who He made me to be or doing what He called me to do? How much more would he put up with? There must be a limit. But wait. . .
"His mercies never come to an end. They are new every morning. . ." — Lamentations 3:22-23And indeed they are new every morning. My brilliant and insightful friend Rebecca (who will always have a place in my heart for driving my husband home from work when I was in labor with my 4th child. . . he was going to WALK the 45 minutes home) apparently woke up this morning with the same struggle. Facing another day of failure.
You can read her blog post here. Her cry is my cry.
"I'm going to fail. Father, show me! Please show me that you will love me, even when I fail today. Make me believe it."She brought the truth of Good Friday to me on the day that I needed it most. And that is good news and balm for my soul.