Mudbath

Freedom gives you choices.

Moving to another country for a semester on my own has given me more freedom than I have ever experienced before, yet it is in this light I have seen how bound to myself I really am.

I've had so many choices to make.

I chose wrongly so many times when I knew what the right one would be- even deliberately, on occasion- and each time I learned.

I learned more about why that choice was the wrong one.
I learned who and what parts of my Self I was destroying.
I learned in more intricate detail than I have previously how helpless I really am when I abandon what He is making me to be- how there is no need to cry out for Him to cripple me when my legs are broken and gangrenous and festering.

Learning from my decisions to deliberately choose the wrong path is like examining the properties of fire by rolling around in it.

Do I regret it? Probably. Would I recommend being okay with doing the same? No. Are these actions and consequences irredeemable? No.

And that's the best and most painful part.


I come Home as a child to my Parent, covered in mud, leaves, sticks, rocks, cuts, and scrapes from the forest I was told not to wander in, feeling quite stupid and vulnerable after running around as the ruler of my pretend mud-kingdom. In silence, I'm taken up again, and the dirt is washed from my wounds. Soon, I'll wake up and run, with fresh war-paint, in a different direction.




Though my sins have been as scarlet
Though my hands have been enemy to You
Though my heart has played the harlot
You gave me more than I deserve

Thank you for Loving me, even when I speak and act the things You hate.