A TRIBUTE TO THOSE WHO STRUGGLE


This is a tribute to those who struggle
With addictions, sin, fear and depression.
To those who fall short, to those who fail short
I use me as an example
I went to church, sang in the choir. I even played the piano.
I lifted up holy hands in the sanctuary but went to my cupboard full of dead men’s bones.
I put up a facade of holiness when in retrospect; I tangoed with sin in the shadows of night.


My Sunday school teachers preached HOLINESS and keeping from sin
But I fell short. I tried and strived to keep myself pure
It doesn't take me eons to realize that "By strength shall no man prevail"
I cried myself to sleep believing that I was failure in God's own eyes.
"Sin," they said, "Keeps you from God".
"Sin", they preached "Leads you straight to the dark chambers of hell"

But I loved God. I wanted to serve him. I wanted to be with him.
But there was a 'But'. My Sunday school teachers told me that Sinning makes me a sinner
And conversely, no sinner shall see God.
They shouted, "THE SOUL THAT SINS SHALL DIE!"
But I wonder how they cleverly put aside the 'Grace that redeems.'

Stumbling in the dark with the candle of ignorance as my illumination,
I give up the quest for holiness
"I can't serve a God who delights in punishing his children when they fall short."
And then, misery descended like a dark heavy fog at midnight hour.

I wallowed in self pity; I swam in the river in hopelessness.
Then one night, the anguish of my soul burning like the flames of hell
I cry out to God demanding an explanation.
"GOD!" I scream, the sound of my voice bouncing off the walls
"Why are you like this? I try God to live up to your standards. But I just fail and fail on.
I'm no good."

I conclude my tale of woe and selfpity.
Silence deafening my ears
And then, in the dark cold night
I hear a soft whisper, too lofty for mortal ears to discern

"Grace. Love" The voice says.
And then the doors of revelation are flung open
Grace. The unmerited favor of God towards sinners.
Love. The subtle yet strong affection of God towards man.
Understanding floods my soul.
I've found what I missed.
I can't do it on my own. Rather I'd soar on the wings of His Grace and love

Time and time again, I stumble
But the Father picks me up
I gaze into His eyes, shimmering blue with love
And I continue the journey.

Time and time, I still fall short.
I still yield to the pull of temptation
But I run to the everlasting arms of the loving Father.
His grace still helps me. His love still chases me.

I desert my strength and I embrace his Grace.
CHEN in Hebrew, CHARIS in Greek. Grace keeps me.
Like a deer panting for the water brooks, I pant after his Grace
Like the prodigal who returns home, His love encapsulates me.

Time has passed.
I still struggle. But of one thing I am sure.
HIS GRACE IS SUFFECIENT FOR ME! HIS STRENGTH IS MADE PERFECT IN MY WEAKNESS!
What then will I do, I will Glory in my infirmities.
'Cos when I am weak, then I am strong.


"These things I have written to you that you do not sin. But if any one sins, we have an advocate with the Father- Jesus the righteous."

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