It’s a wonder how I end up waking up one day and am confused about how I got here. But when I retrace my steps, it all makes sense. My body has been doing plenty to take care of life and the things that are supposed to be important. But my heart? Just drifting, ever so slowly. Ever so subtly. A little less fight. A little less discipline. A little less love. And it hurts to realize that.
The thing about drifting is that it just goes to and fro, here and there. There isn’t any intention nor direction. Wherever the wind blows, wherever the current takes you. Couple that with man’s sinfulness and there is no way that you somehow end up closer to God. It truly is a miraculous and gracious act of our Father that we, time and time again, end up waking up on the shore, able to walk on solid ground. And you realize, His hand is in all things. Even the storms and the winds listen to his voice. The grace extended to us leads us to repentance. For that I’m thankful and humbled once again. The message of the Cross never gets old.