I’ll spare you the gory details, but it seems like I mess up somehow almost every day. And as the tally count rises, I find myself carrying around a heavy bag of guilt over my shortcomings. Why can’t I get it together? Keep my foot out of my mouth? Or at least keep my mouth shut? Why did I snap at my husband or my kids?
Oh, I may try to pass the blame. If only they hadn’t done or said that, then … But, as someone smart once told me, pointing a finger leaves at least three fingers aimed my direction. I can’t change others or control the circumstances. I can only control myself – and I don’t always respond the way I should.
Dwelling on the failure only leaves me buffeted by a hurricane of regret.
My anchoring point in the storm? My failure is not final.
I have a redeemer who sees me, not as I am, but how I was intended to be. He sees my heart and the potential packed inside. His mission is to repair the damage and set me on the right path again. What I can’t do for myself, He does.
I make mistakes, but God doesn’t. And He made me.
So, instead of failure and regret, I come running to Him and find forgiveness and a second chance.
(Gleaned from Six Hours One Friday by Max Lucado)
What about you? Are you carrying around a bag of failures or have you left them at the cross? Do you gaze at the past or look ahead to the future?