Jersey was a blessing. I will tell you all about it.
Soon.
But first?
I wish I was one who learned quickly, who saw her mistakes as they were laid out in front of her, and didn't need to be dragged through the trenches kicking and screaming to see the err in her ways.
When my pride is at its worst, and sin is taking ahold of this life, it often results in a knockdown dragout fight between myself and the Lord.
And it is solely by his grace that I can eventually succumb to his tender words of "Enough, child. Enough."
I know that it is because of his great love for his people that we are shown our need for him.
He disciplines those he loves.
His kindness is what leads us to repentance.
But so often, I wish that the road was easier. That there was a less painful way for the Father to make us like Christ. That we didn't have to hurt each other in the process of figuring out what this life is to look like.
Our God is one of grace, forgiveness, and peace.
So I am thankful for the knockdowns and the dragouts. For the midnight phone calls. For the anger-driven chats in the center of Times Square. For the mile-long e-mails that I never want to open. For all the tough conversations on park benches, sidewalks, and front steps.
Because they've drawn me closer to Jesus, by showing me my desperate need of him and only him.
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