there are days (that sometimes lead me into weeks and months) where my faith feels so weak that all i want to do is compromise. when people question me about faith in God, blessings, and moral standards, i am out of answers. and when i write "answers" i mean good answers: answers that have power and give life, a meaningful stringing together of ideals, ideologies, and passion that tell of Jesus. my conclusion here is that i am not righteous..and my life doesn't help the words stand up with umph.
but then on other days, i remember who i am: the fat, little girl who was rescued into a beautiful, abundant life and charged with the task of sharing that with people around me. and i remember that my righteousness doesn't depend on me, it was bestowed on me by Jesus and the sacrifice of his life for me. when i remember this, i can barely bunch my pants up fast enough to keep from tripping before my heart has already leapt from my chest and my spirit has charged forth to meet my God where His love is dwelling and working, clinging on to him in anticipation for the ride that is about to ensue.
my waivering heart.
now you see it.
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