What will you make of yourself
in this world, friend? Something, I hope, for your sake. For this world tips dismal and bitter with a wind whiff and we’re helpless, we’ll all stumble, but for grace. Grace: It tears our pride down, mightily, and rightfully, and when our guard’s down, ooof it hurts so good to be seen in all our mess and still embraced with sincerity and clarity by a God who wants to meet us face to face. Face Him and glory be those eyes are honest, the strongest and most gentle all at once, He says I’m loved, cared for, set free if I’ll just drink from this living source I’ll see and know that He is good and my liberty comes from surrender: not what I make of myself, but what I let Him make of me. Comments are closed.
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AuthorI write to process. I write to explore. I write with the hope of sharing truth greater than my own. Archives
February 2022
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