that it's just the Gospel, the good news of Jesus Christ, that saves me. That rescues me. That covers me.
It's not anything I can do.
Anything I read.
Any theological position I embrace.
Any act of social justice.
Any amount of money I can donate.
It's all Jesus. All of it is on him and through Him, by His grace alone.
Sometimes I forget...
that he said, "You can't do anything without me."
|me and my cousin, cliffs of moher, ireland in '00|
It's not about muscling through.
Proving my worth.
Making myself valuable.
Reading the latest self-help book.
It's not about making the cross meaningless by my own attempt to be approved by the letter of the law.
It's the unbelievable, send-me-to-my-knees truth that he chose me.
Not based on anything besides his love.
Does that make any sense at all? No.
|a painting from last year|
I need this to stick to my bones today.
To fill in those empty spaces between my to-do list items.
To balm the wounds. To seep into my words.
To cover our doorways.
Fill the silence on phone calls. To rescue the broken hearts that no one can fix.
I need this to be the giant boulder that redirects every flow from my heart and mouth today.
((Listening to Brooke Fraser's "Crows and Locusts" as I write this. And thankfully, gratefully praying that we will let it wash over us.))