Failure and brokeness

Lately, I've felt like a failure. I pray and pray for God to help me to be more patient. More graceful. More loving. More joyful. To help me control my temper. Not be greedy. Man, I pray for a lot of things. Constantly. And yet, I see no fruit. I still yell. I still walk into my bedroom and punch pillows. I still get grumpy, focus on the wrong things, grow frustrated, ask too much and give too little. I fail.

Just a few weeks ago I was crying to a friend "I feel like I am more patient, but my kids are also requiring more patience so I'm still getting angry just as frequently!" I was so angry, so upset. I wanted to bask in my patience for at least a week before them demanding more of me. I wanted to pat myself on the back.

I wanted to feel successful.

Yet over the last few days, God has showed me that I'm not a failure. I'm broken. And those are two completely different things. I'm crying out to Him for help instead of relying on myself. I'm recognizing my sin and addressing it. I'm drawing closer to Him every day and He's showing me the things in my life that need to change.

And that, my friends, is success. However I might appear to the outside world, I recognize that I am not a failure. That I am broken but that I am on the right path. I am learning that it's not about my success, but about what He can do through me. And if I'm broken, He's getting me ready for something. Something big. Something wonderful. Because flowers won't grow if the soil is rock hard. It has to be broken up. So here I am, anticipating what the flowers coming my way might be. While I am focusing on the little details, my failures, He sees the whole story and what this time is preparing me for. And for that, I am grateful.