On My Knees

The end of a another long day. A day of physical and emotional turmoil. The need for rest, but the pull to do more to be more.

I check my email just one more time. And, I find this. A post from Ann Voskamp about this very thing. About failure. About this fight. But, not just the fight, the victory too. She wrote this:

"A failing lent? It is a good Lent because this lament of our sin -- 

is exactly what prepares us for  Resurrection Joy found in our Savior.

Grief is what cultivates the soil for the seeds of joy.

She who knows her sins much?  Loves much, and the road to heaven is paved with the realization that I deserve hell. 

His rising will be all my joy, because I know it in the marrow of the bones: He is all my hope.

Strange how that is --- You can sit in the dark of lent.

And still feel the warming flame of His Grace on your face."

How can I know my need for a savior without first sitting in the dark?

Because it is in the dark that the light shines brightest. Where it is most obvious. Without dark, there is no need for light. 

How can I understand the depths of his love without first understanding my own depravity? 

Because I want to focus on my accomplishments and he wants me to stay in my failures. At least for a moment. Long enough to understand.

I need to feel lowly. To bow humbly. In order to understand. 

To feel the ground under my knees. In order to appreciate. 

To cry out, so that I may experience rest.

 He sees my brokenness, my walls that need rebuilding. He took it already. My flesh, my sin. So, why am I still holding on?  

I fail, so his victory is sweeter. So his light is all I see. It is only in his power that I stand. Until I see that, I must remain on my knees.