A day that feels wasted, really.
I did a little homework, but I could have done much more.
I did so many things besides, even things that are good.
Two hours each at two different jobs.
Chapel, class, test, class. Breakfast, lunch, off campus, back.
Min team and catching up and fellowship and chilling on Nelle’s bed laughing.
I did lots of things today, I guess.
And I feel good about the things I accomplished, too.
But I’m frustrated and angry about what I didn’t do.
Could have handled my time better. Should have prioritized a little more. Would have checked a couple more things off the list that guides my life.
But I didn’t, and I hate that.
There are projects I should have worked on, and reading I knew I should have finished, and have you even looked at next week’s homework?
I’m not furious with myself, but I am frustrated and I’m determined to stay that way, at least for a little while.
Maybe enough disappointment at my own time-use failure will motivate me to get my act together and do better next time. Tomorrow will be a better day, a more schoolwork productive day, and then I’ll let myself feel good about things.
But even as a berate my own shortcomings, God comes perilously close to my heart and He’s whispering insistently right into me.
But no, God, I don’t want your view of me right now.
I appreciate how you see me, but I’m busy now, Lord. I’m busy telling myself what I’m good for (very little, apparently), and yelling at myself to get a grip on reality and do the work I should be doing.
I don’t want your truth right now.
This is a small issue, I’ve thrown His truth in His face on much larger questions of heart before, but now just as then He refuses to budge and eventually, I’ve really no choice.
Fine, God. You win; tell me your view. What do you see here? What in me must you be so insistent about revealing to me, reminding me of?
A child who Jesus died for. A child I’m working every day to redeem.
Yes, Lord, and I’m so grateful, but there’s a long chasm between my redemption and the fact that I did less than one hour of actual homework today. It’s a big chasm and I’m filling it to the brim with mistakes I’ve made, choices I know should have been a little different.
Yes, child! Fill the chasm with your mistakes, your sins. Fill it; confess them, learn from them, accept my healing, and move on.
Ah, yes Lord, you’re right! I push all the ways that I should have done better to the side, leave them to you to heal, and then I can get my life together and be so on top of things tomorrow. I’m going to do well tomorrow, God, I promise.
Oh, little one, you miss the point gravely. That I forgive is not so that you can try your own very best to do just a little better next time. No, no; the forgiveness and redemption that you experience is for you to fall even harder on the grace that I extend. Grace doesn’t set you up to fall, but it opens your eyes to how far you fall, and how important it is that you have Someone to catch you.
Yes, God. I understand. Help me, Lord.
Yes, child, of course. Because grace exposes the truth under your mistakes, the sin layer under the superficial layer, but grace knows that you can’t fix anything on your own. So grace redeems heart, redeems views, redeems assignments, redeems time.