Write for 5 minutes flat – no editing, no over thinking, no backtracking.
This weeks prompt: Fall
On Sunday we sing:
A thousand times I’ve failed
Still your mercy remains
And should I stumble again
Still I’m caught in your grace
I never used to believe that I failed all that much. It’s probably not smart to admit that, but there it is. I was a pretty good girl. A rule follower. I knew all the right answers. Faith didn’t seem that hard. I came from ardent missionary and evangelist stock. Sure, I wasn’t perfect but I was pretty darn good.
My first clue was when anger started to bubble up in me. The shock of white hot anger against my own son when his little toddler self wouldn’t obey. I prayed, and read books, and buttoned my lips tight, and tried to batten down the hatch of self control. And I never talked about it. Because obviously, good Christian mothers do not get angry. Ever. So I smiled and put my game face on. I said all the right things.
The years have passed. Failure is now my saving grace. I talk about my stumbles. I talk about my face plants right into the muck and mire of my dirty heart. I am raised up again by my sisters who speak truth about their failures too. The more I embrace my failure the more I feel God’s grace catching me, lifting me, cleaning me, freeing me.