Day 112, April 20

Do you ever suppose that you will ever "get it right?"  I wonder about that all the time with myself.  Will I get something--anything--right?  Ever?

At times, it seems pretty bleak.  A couple of days ago I wrote about my growing list of imperfections.  Perhaps imperfections is too kind a word for them.  Weaknesses.  Frailities.  And sins.  (That's the biggie, those sins.)

I want to give up, to throw in the towel and say, "Father, I'm too weak, too frail, too sinful to do anything right."  Even those things which I want to do seem beyond my reach.

Then the Father reminds me, "Child, you're still growing.   Be patient with yourself.  As I'm patient with you."

So, for today, I am grateful for the Father's patience.   (Heaven literally knows how much I've strained it.)