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I am the Lame Man


I am the lame man. I am the woman at the well. I am the thief on the cross. And the minute I place myself above anyone else is the minute I have forgotten the height from which I have fallen, the pit from which I've been rescued. To think I am doing it all right and they are doing it all wrong, or I have it all together and they are so far gone, is to forget just how remarkable it is that Christ would save me.

"Pick up your mat and walk", he said to me. And now I am walking in His light, only by the grace of God, not by the power in my own legs.

"How can you ask me for a drink?", the woman at the well asked Jesus, wondering how He could associate with her. I, too, recognize and marvel at the immeasurable mercy He has granted me to be called His daughter. And now I am walking away from my past in His light, only by the grace of God, not because I am worthy.

"Today you will be with me in paradise", my Savior says to me. Is there any greater pardon? That flawless Christ would take on my sin and save me. I walk with my invalid legs and my sinful past, not earning my place in heaven because of who I am or what I have done, but purely because of the grace God bestowed upon me.

I am the lame man. I am the woman at the well. I am the thief on the cross.

And I will never forget it.