God carries His wounded.

Sometimes, I forget. But the reality of God's incomprehensible love and never ending compassion and grace for us, the depraved and helpless, is a reality that is beyond the boundaries of my imagination. Do I forget simply because it is a truth that makes me uncomfortable? Ironically, it is God that I should find all my comfort in, but He is overwhelming. As I continue to grow in knowledge about my faith and about who God is, I see more and more how undeserving I am of His mercies. Yes, it makes me uncomfortable. Because I see the depravity of my human nature and I know that if salvation was distributed according to merit, I would never receive it.

But God does not want me wallowing in shame, but rejoicing in who He is and what He's done for sinful humanity. And how Jesus endured the curse of the Cross so that I can have a loving relationship with the Father.

So here I am, humbled and helpless, like an infant in need of her Father's comfort after falling down and skinning her knee, I rest in God's arms as He surrounds me with His assurance that He is indeed for me, and not against me. He is carrying me, because I am not strong. He is holding me, because only He can comfort me. He is with me, so that I am not alone. He is listening closely because He can understand me better than anyone.