Dear Lord
You know. Sometimes I imagine you saying, Have you considered my servant Lwandle? That there is none like her in the earth. A perfect and upright woman, one that fears God and avoids sin. I can almost imagine the enemy laugh to your face. Loudly. Till he can’t breath. Till he can’t stand upright. Till you don’t know what to do with yourself. Till you look at where the nails pierced your hands and you cry a little. Till you begin to wonder if the cross was even worth it. Till you look at me and just shake your head in disappointment. Heartfelt disappointment. O wretched man that I am!
You know. The way I almost always take the easiest out. The way I almost always choose sin in a heartbeat. The way I almost always do what I don’t want. For what I would, that do I not but what I hate, that do I. The way I almost always manage to fold. I almost always feel like the chief of sinners. I almost always feel less than the least of all saints. The way I almost always manage to let you down. O wretched man that I am!
You know. I feel so unworthy of your love. I feel so unworthy of the cross. I feel undeserving of your forgiveness. I feel like I keep running in circles. I feel like I’m not growing and maturing in my Christian walk. Just when I think I am doing okay. I find myself at point zero all over again. Just when I think I am praying and studying your word as I should. I find myself indulging in sinful thoughts and activities. Just when I think I am treating my neighbour how I want to treated. I find myself riding on my high horse. Proudly so. Just when I think my faith has grown strong and unwavering. I find myself feeling helpless. Hopeless. Ready to give up on all your promises. O wretched man that I am!
There is therefore now no condemnation to them which are in Christ Jesus, who walk not after the flesh, but after the Spirit. For the law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus hath made me free from the law of sin and death.
Romans 8:1-2
Thank you for taking me just as I am. Thank you for choosing me over and over again. What shall I render unto you for all your benefits towards me? Give me real faith. Give me warmer zeal. Inflame me with more fervent love. Grant me the grace of meekness. Make me more like Jesus. Let me no longer be found wanting, when weighed in the balances of the sanctuary. Help me seek ye first your kingdom and it’s righteousness.
Your trying but struggling daughter
Lwandle