Imperfect imperfect IMPERFECT

I love reading Christian blogs. I love gaining wisdom and perception from many, many gifted writers: the favourites whose blogs I subscribe to and whose writing I return to again and again; the new writers I find linked to others. So much wisdom, so many gifted people. Wonderful. Inspiring.

I try to do good. I try to live as a 'Jesus girl', to quote Lysa TerKeurst. I aspire to obedience to the gospel in the bigness and littleness - mostly the littleness - of life.

But every so often, I find myself wondering whether those who write feel as I do. When I am encouraged to befriend a stranger, do a kindness for a neighbour, share the gospel with a colleague..sometimes, often, I feel incapable of doing anything.

Because 'my sin is always before me'. I feel as if I can only 'do good' when I FEEL good. When I am not unhappy, or harbour resentment and feelings of revenge...

And yet. And yet. So often this week I am reminded that I am broken. I am in the process of being mended, but, this side of heaven, I am not perfect and am still broken.

My strength is in my vulnerability and honesty about my brokenness.