Loved.

I care more about how pretty my house is than how holy my heart is.

I care more about what others think of me than living in a manner worthy of the gospel.

I care more about my comfort than following the commands of scripture.

I’d rather be on Pinterest than reading my Bible.

I’d rather wallow in my feelings than pray.

I’d rather hear someone compliment me than believe what God has already said.

I rarely want to fight my sin, really fight.

I rarely want to do the hard things for the glory of God.

I rarely want to risk my security, my comfort, my glory for the sake of the gospel.

 

I am so grieved today by my sin. I’m grieved by my coveting and selfish and prideful and self-sufficient heart. I’m grieved by the fact that I love my reputation and I love being right and I dismiss others and the work God is doing in them. I play the comparison game daily and evaluate myself based on my performance compared to yours.

And here? Here in this mess I am loved. I don’t believe it always. In fact, I rarely believe it. But today, right now, I am clinging to that love. I am clinging to the fact that in my sin and filthiness He sees me and loves.

I am precious even when I don’t believe it, I am holy even when I’m sinful, and I’m a daughter even when I act like an orphan.

Today may we rest in that.

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