The inventory of our personal faith gets revealed during currents of distress. I have often been baffled by the awkward ineptness of how I deal with my propensity to miss the mark.
In basketball games, the proud shooter pumps his chest and triggers the sky with zest. I have never seen a player ritualizing his miss with such candor. We look at our foibles with disdain and quickly provide an egress. We run away quickly from the evidence of our sins.
There is however, something deep and glorious about missing a shot.
Every sin, reminds us of the cross of Christ. Every mark we miss, reveals the grand gift of our Redeemer to drink of the unfathomable grace that drips His constant measure of mercy for all our times of lack.
Oh, the deep and wide reservoir of Christ's unmerited loyalty!
