You know, amidst all my internal struggles, many of which I share on this blog, I think I'm becoming more and more okay with not being perfect. Not in a complacent way, but in an accepting, optimistic way.
It's hard to feel like I'm not being judged when I talk to people who have read my blog, because I bare so much of whatever is on my heart at the time, Godly or not so much. But I don't regret it. No, this outlet has become a diary that I can look back on, sometimes cringing, sometimes smiling. Many times, it has started off as an emotional release and become a prayer. It is evidence, however feeble, of my ever-deepening walk with Jesus Christ, my Lord and Savior.
I like that I can be an open book. Looking back on situations where I thought I was never going to forgive somebody, or where I was stubborn and foolish aren't exactly fun to relive, but it keeps me humble. It reminds me of how God tenderly disciplined me, much the way a father does for a wayward child. It reminds me that I'm not alone and that my life isn't a finished novel. No, it's simply a part of my life. All the things I've written about are a part of me, but they don't define me.
For all of you who read these words, know that I am a sinner, in need of grace. Sometimes I struggle to accept that I am in sin, sometimes I struggle to accept grace offered to me. Please be patient with me.