Saturday, October 5, 2013

Broken by Myself

I know that Christ died for me, but I don't believe it. Not really.

If Christ had to do that--die--really die--to fix me, then there must be something drastically wrong with who I am.
And He died, all right. I believe that. But because of me? Really?

The Bible, after all, says that I am made in the image of God, right? How messed up, then, can I be?
Enough, apparently.

This is hard to understand. But until I do understand, really understand, this miserable necessity of Christ having to die because I am so broken, I can't understand anything else--not about God, not about me. So long as I hold onto even the smallest inkling that I might be OK just as I am, I cannot know God.

I don't like this idea. Not even a little.

I am good, and patient, and kind and all the rest. Most of the time. I am. I sometimes even look in the mirror and think, 'Hey, you're OK, girl.' But inevitably, just about then, I crash and burn. Anger, deception, and selfishness crowd out all the good stuff. Again.

And I see Him there--Jesus--hanging, bleeding, dying--saying nothing, saying everything.

Is He accusing me? No. But neither does he shrink from the truth like I do. He wears the truth.  He carries it, lays down on it, and dies on it.

I am not OK. Not alone. Not without Him. Not ever.

He bore the punishment that makes us whole.--Isaiah 53:5
You were bought with a price--1 Corinthians 6:20


  1. I can feel your pain in your writing. You have to believe that Christ did die for you. Oh how I wish I could take away your pain but I can't. One thing I can be to you is a friend. I will visit again to read more of your post. I do hope you will allow me to become a friend to you. Stay sweet my friend.

  2. Thanks, Serenitee. Yes, there is plenty pain in remembering that we are not what God made us to be, that we are so very imperfect. And I'm not sure that taking away that pain would be a healthy thing, at least not for me. I can live with that as long as I remember who saves and that He does it over, around, and through all the icky stuff. I am not sad or depressed over this, knowing it leads me to joy. Thank you for your sweet concern and taking the trouble to comment. Looking forward to hearing from you again.