There are days when I feel I have nothing to give; when it’s been a particularly hard day. Maybe I’ve been fighting with my husband. Maybe I’ve been yelling at my kids. Maybe I binged on chocolate or woke up late or missed my quiet time before the kids started in. There’s days I am lazy cleaning, cooking, teaching the kids. I have bad days. It’s real.
It’s those days when I turn to write here and I would rather just cower in a corner, hide under the covers. I am ashamed. I feel completely unsuited to do this thing. But, then I have to remind myself that even on my best days, I am a complete failure. Even at my best, there is no good in me.
Jesus’ blood is my only righteousness, and no matter how many other people I look at and admire because they seem to have it all together, his blood is their only righteousness too. We are all in the same boat here. We are all daily failures. We all botch it. And that is why there is grace. There is grace for me and grace for you. There is grace for our spouses, parents and children.
As I sit here now, I’ve had two bad days in a row (not that this is entirely unusual or anything). Bad days happen. Bad weeks happen. I’m detoxing from sugar, so there it is: there is the excuse that’s really no excuse at all. All those little candida bacteria screaming at me, is no excuse for me to scream at someone else. Me being hurt by someone else is no excuse. There is just no excuse.
It’s in these times, I have to turn to Jesus. I have to ask forgiveness. I have to humble myself before my Maker, who knows the worst in me, who sees my own hurts, but also sees the way I’ve hurt others.
Father, forgive me. I’ve failed again today. I let my pride get the best of me. I thought my hurts mattered more than theirs. I was selfish. I was angry and in my anger I sinned. Father, thank you for the forgiveness you’ve guaranteed us through your Son’s death on the cross. That must have been so hard. You a perfect God, seeing the rebellion of your creation must have been an unimaginable hurt for you. You’d given everything, and then you gave your Son too. I am sorry I have taken that for granted. I am sorry I believed that my hurt mattered more than Yours. Thank you that my righteousness is found in you, is sure in you, because if it depended on me, I’d be a sure failure.
It’s in my very lack that I have anything to offer. It’s in those moments when I am sure of my weakness, that I am reminded of His strength. It’s when I have nothing to give, that the Lord stirs up in me something that surely has value, because He has value. After all, nothing I have to say is worth a dime, but every word of God is priceless.
So there you have it. It’s real. I have nothing to offer, but Jesus does. Now, I can go on without feeling like I have anything to prove, except Jesus’ own gift in me.