“Do not rejoice over me, O my enemy. Though I fall I will rise; ThoughI dwell in darkness, the LORD is a light for me.” — Micah 7:8

As I survey my forty-something years of following Christ, I often feel like an abject failure. I sometimes have even questioned the authenticity of my faith. And I certainly feel insecure about how well—sometimes even if—I’ll finish my race.

And yet I run. I echo the Apostle Peter’s query: “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life.” Sometimes I weary so of the opposition, of the discouragement, of the failure, of the self-obsession, the self-doubt, the self-hatred—the self-ishness of my earthen life. Yet I run, hoping that in my frequent falling there is a forward momentum…incremental progress. And I do that because Jesus is my hope, my only hope…our only hope. And He’s that only as He enables and upholds us (Isaiah 41:10).

One morning in a quiet time, I came across an impactful writing by Juliana Horatia Ewing, a well-beloved Victorian children’s writer. Over the years, it has often been such a healing balm to me:

“The free gift of grace with which God perfects our efforts may come in many ways, but I am convinced that it is the common experience of Christians that it does come. There may be some souls, whose brave and bitter lot is to conquer comfortless. Perhaps some terrible inheritance of strong sin from the father is visited upon the son, and, only able to keep his purpose pure, he falls as fast as he struggles up, and still struggling falls again. Soft moments of peace with God and man may never come to him. He may feel himself viler than a thousand trumpery souls who could not have borne his trials for a day. For you and me is reserved no such cross and no such crown as theirs who falling still fight, and fighting fall, with their faces Zionwards, into the arms of the everlasting Father. ‘As one whom his mother comforteth’ shall be the healing of their wounds” (Emphasis mine).

The embraced sacrifice of Jesus guarantees our salvation and such a radical, unmerited acceptance by God. But in the face of prolonged and persistent battle, and multiple defeats, it’s easy to feel that prospect dimmed and somewhat unreal. The accusations of the enemy can also be pretty convincing, especially when hammering down an already-bruised conscience. God’s truth always remains true, but hope sometimes wears incredibly thin.