Forests and Socks

As I look in the mirror, I am aware and convicted of the fact that I am a tangled mess of emotions. A mess of good and bad, righteous and sin, and dirty, and clean. Clean. God has made me this way. I am like a picture sock. Although the outside portrays a picture, I am the inside. The mess made from the stitches that no one can see. The stitches that when you wear your shoes too tight leave red indents onto the top of your foot. That is me. I am the cause of those red indents and I am disappointed. However, even though I don't come close to being perfect, I realize that I am pure. I am the person God says I am, and he says he loves me. I realize that without the strands on the inside of the sock, there would be no picture. Those weaknesses make me fail. It is through this failing that I must rejoice because that makes God even more strong in my life because I can not run on my own steam. Through my weakness he is strong. And through my unfaithfulness, he is faithful. I must walk the road of righteousness and faith, and not get distracted from the enticing side roads and shortcuts-because I might might miss something along the way. The road is long, and the road is painful. The thorns in my side causes me to not walk headstrong and proud, but limp humbly yet joyfully along my wayward path on that narrow road. The thorns in my side beg me to stop. But I can't. I can't stop now. I am traveling this road called faith. "Faith is a journey, not a destination" (Tom Ehrich). On this journey-on this road which I walk, the rocks jab into my feet. Or maybe they are just eggshells. There are flies, and mosquitoes that swarm and overtake me. Or maybe it is just the breeze nudging me. There are mountains I must struggle to climb. Or maybe they are just molehills that trip me. However, I know for sure that the the songs the wind makes, and the trees conduct is worth every toil I must undergo on this narrow road. I must let go of all this baggage and run on this road of faith. Till I reach the end; until I die. There are no shortcuts, there are no missing strands. If a strand of the knotting is missing, a portion of the picture is missing. And although I am not aware of it, I am sure that with each step I take on this road, the ugly and painful strands on the back of my socks, are being replaced with holy strands as I give my life up for God. Strands not of my weakness, but of God's strength. So on this painful road of faith, I must live my life for God. Or... maybe there are no roads; there are just forests and socks.