There are times you think you’re making progress. And you are. You celebrate the small decisions that together amount to more than casual, flippant choices. Perhaps to the untrained eye they are only that: casual choices. But for you, the steps feel like leaps and suddenly you’re invincible, scratching your head at the things that seemed difficult before.
But then, the wind shifts, and when it rains it pours, (and it is, in fact, nearly mid-March) and those familiar feelings find their way to the surface again. You realize you are the same girl with the same struggles and fears and it almost seems like someone played a trick on you. Unfair. Those two steps forward quickly feel like four steps back, and you’re on your knees again.
“God, I’m so… broken.”
“I say that every time I start to pray to you…”
“…because it’s so true….”
I don’t expect you to be perfect. Why do you?
Your weakness is enough because of my grace.
It is my grace that is sufficient. Not you.
And you realize that it doesn’t matter if your two steps forward turned into four steps back because it was never about how many steps. What matters is you’re still walking.
Wearily, victoriously, cautiously… so cautiously, walking.
Walking when you aren’t exactly sure what you’re next step will be.
Walking when it seems as though you’re surrounded by inadequacy, fear, pain.
Walking towards something better, towards hope and healing and wholeness and a heart full of joy and peace.
Because sometimes the person you need to extend grace to most is yourself, to silence the opposing whispers that speak not of grace but of condemnation.
Learning to walk in grace.