Falling Short

It’s been one of those weeks. The kind of week where all you do is pray that it ends and drown yourself in thick, creamy, chocolate milkshakes and cry while watching a sad movie about love, loss and the importance of finding a good pair of shoes.

But this week, no matter how hard I prayed, it seemed to stretch on forever. And as many of you know, by doctor’s orders I cannot have sugar at this time, so a milkshake was out of the question.

I don’t know if it was the guy at the grocery store who made his 5lb girlfriend carry his 24 pack of beer that really set me off, or if it was the glass I broke in the sink, the coffee I spilled on the counter, my half pound grapes that are probably still scattered throughout the Food Lion parking lot or the twelve year old kid who gave me the bird because her mother drives like Angela Lansbury on muscle relaxers. Maybe it was that and more combined, but this week, I’ve been confronted with about two hundred small challenges that have nearly made me run over everyone, take up kick-boxing and throw doctor’s orders to the wind and eat an entire birthday cake.

But somehow I made it. The week ended and I didn’t injure myself beyond repair, eat my weight in sugar and flour or face charges for mowing over Angela Lansbury Jr. with my mother’s new car.

All of that was the grace of God, I assure you.

IMG_3028Somewhere between running to grab my flying cart of groceries that ran away from me  and discovering how to make the best cup of peppermint tea, I realized that like every one before it, this week will end. Life will look up and I will no longer feel the need to write a book on why women act crazy and defend my absurd actions this week.

All in all, I’ve been reminded that as He always is–God is faithful in my screw ups. So many times in the past month, I’ve had numerous people stare at me, mouth agape, shaking their heads and saying “What are you doing?”

And my response, as I hang my head, is: “We all fall short of the Glory of God.”

Oh, how true it is. But even in my countless screw up’s since 2013 begun, I keep finding Him there. I wake up and I feel Him smiling. I’m making lunch and He sits with me and I tell Him about all the things I’m afraid of, all the reasons I want to scream, and the reasons why I’m still grateful..and He laughs. When I’m chugging down my third cup of coffee at work and laughing with my co-workers, He’s there reminding me that when I get home and start analyzing everything I think I’m doing wrong–He’ll still be around. And then again at night, when I’m there, thinking about all the ways I’m probably going to disappoint myself and others, it’s like I hear Him laughing and I know that somehow and in some way I can’t see… He’s got it. He’s there. He won’t walk out–sometimes, I forget that.

And really that’s all I’ve ever asked for. All I’ve ever wanted. Is a God who doesn’t leave and who doesn’t just remind me of my failures but gives me grace and shows me a better way. To sit with me on my quiet lunch break, to laugh when I break nearly everything in the apartment and to call me back when I lose my way.

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