I want to believe the Gospel. More than anything. I want the Truth to sink into my bones. I want to move on Gospel fuel, breathe Gospel air, live with Gospel blood in my veins. But while my mind gets that, my heart does otherwise. I admit that I strive to work hard for God, reluctant to rest in what He’s done for me.
I tend to feel like people coming to know the Lord depends directly on how much joy they see in my life–that if I can just be happy enough, strong enough, lively enough, of course they’ll want a relationship with Jesus. I believe they’ll only want Him if I don’t break down, don’t feel pain, and don’t mess up. I make myself out to be the Savior, assuming my “perfect” life will win hearts for Christ.
But of course, things don’t work that way. I get hurt, stressed, and burdened. I fall to sin. I crumble under pressure. And then guilt washes over me as I hear whispers of the evil one. Who would ever want your God? He’s not even here for you. Why would anyone assume He’d show up for them? Or worse, What’s so great about what you have? You’re a mess. Yeah, that’s some strong Savior of yours.
How twisted! Jesus never said that we wouldn’t face trials. He never directed us to hide our pain. People are attracted to authenticity, not hypocrisy; to vulnerability, not artificial poise.
We don’t have to have perfect lives in order for people to want to know Jesus. The entire point of the Gospel is that He lived a perfect life. That He is the rock we lean on. That we are broken. He is holy. Our brokenness puts His glory on display. Our frailty magnifies His strength.
Our failure is a testimony to God’s grace. In our weakness, He is strong.
But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.– 2 Corinthians 12:9