Broken Promises and a Love That Overcomes

Have you ever broken a promise? I have, lots of times. Once, for a sponsored silence, I vowed not to speak for fifteen hours a day for four days. (Most of the other nine hours were when I was asleep.) I broke it on the third day, because someone on the TV said something I didn't agree with. I was alone at the time, so nobody else needed to know, but I knew. I was so frustrated with myself because there had been no reason for me to speak, but I had slipped up because my guard was down. When I was least expecting it, I failed.

We all slip up from time to time. Sometimes it's a deliberate act, often it's just a result of letting our guard down. We get lost in a moment of anger or passion or fear or just plain thoughtlessness. Before we know it, our promises are broken. And even if there was no one else there to see what we did, that doesn't change the fact that we failed.

And as you go a little further into your guilt trip, you realise that even if you thought no one saw you, there is actually Someone who sees everything. And, inconveniently, that someone isn't just as flawed as you, enabling you to appeal to their equal fear of guilt and therefore beg them to see you less harshly. Instead, that Someone is actually perfect and never breaks their promises. It's even worse than flunking a science test and being caught by Stephen Hawking.

I was meant to be writing about Valentine's Day. I guess, in a way, that I am. Because even though God, who is perfect and never makes mistakes, sees us and every little crack and stumble of failure, he chooses to forgive us. Not just by an act of saying "Oh well, never mind then," but by taking all our guilt and broken promises upon himself and suffering the punishment in our place. The world throws all sorts of ideas at us about what love means, but I think they'd be hard pushed to find a better definition than that.

"For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life."

(John 3:16)

"Man knows no greater love than this: that he lay down his life for his friends."

(John 15:13)

Why run dry when you're by the Pacific?

Can't think of anything to write today. Blog has not been going smoothly this year. Seems my inspiration has run dry. As dry as an empty bucket on desert sand.

EXCEPT.

What I often fail to realise is the sand I am on is not the desert, but the beach. And instead of waiting for my bucket to fill itself, I could switch my focus and roll a short distance into the Ocean.

The ocean I am referring to in this analogy is God. He is the living water that does not run dry. He can restore me when I am empty. He is the source of my inspiration and gives me the strength to carry on. I do not have to fill my bucket myself. I can simply ask him and it will overflow.

According to Wikipedia,

"The volume of the Pacific Ocean, representing about 50.1 percent of the world's oceanic water, has been estimated at some 714 million cubic kilometers."

God is even more abundant than the ocean. He has an endless supply of water available to all of us who ask for it. So why sit on the beach?