I am convinced that my greatest downfall is my ability to forget. The things I forget sometimes cost me the most. But that's okay because I've become adapt to forgetting in time. The lesson is lost only to quiz me again in the future. The merry-go-round becomes the black hole of my degrade.
I can complain because I've forgotten what I should be thankful for. I weep because I forgot where my joy comes from. I rejoice in my abundance because I've forgotten the lack of others. I worry because I've forgotten who I am in Christ. I speak in the phrases of vanity because I've forgotten to put on the mind if Christ.
Sadly, the things I choose to remember are far removed from God. The toils of the day write their memoirs on my unguarded heart. The attitudes of others determine my own with my permission.
Who is this man who once chose to be a man after God's own heart? . . . I forget.
But when the stillness toils and the silence deafens I cannot hold my heart within my chest. The weight compels me to my knees. It is there . . . where my knees touch the earth, that I remember and my tears wash away the granite stains from my heart and I utter the words, "Forgive me, Father." It is then that I recall my first love and remember that there is none but Jesus. No, not one.
None But Jesus
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