Hey Guys! This if for those of us who feel like we aren't Christian-y enough to fit whatever mold we feel we're supposed to fit. As always, if you feel like you aren't, I'm here to tell you: Jesus didn't only come for the stiff, super conservative, He came for the sinners. The dirty, inside and out. He doesn't expect us to be perfect, if we were, we wouldn't need Him, and that-ha!- is laughable. Anyway, enough description, just have a listen if you want to. 
Here's what I wrote for today:

I often feel like a failure. Almost like a liar, as harsh as that feels to admit. I go around, writing advice for the earnest seeker, and urging eyes to lift towards Heaven, when my own walk seems to fall short. Sometimes--all too often--I feel like a fake. I’ve said it at nearly every opportunity and every opening: I am not a teacher, a preacher, or a theologian! ...But am I even an earnest Christ-seeker? How deep is my faith? How much have I invested in this relationship with God that I wave around like a banner, encouraging others to join the parade? 

… I am reminded though, in my devotions today, that Jesus didn’t come for the holy. Jesus came for the hotheads, like Simon Peter; the downtrodden, the sick, and the helpless. He came offering hope to those who had never had reason to believe their lives could be any different.

I was probably 16 when I went to a competition with my school, and for the first time, I signed up to do a vocal solo as one of my events. My beloved music teacher suggested I attempt Cece Winan’s “Alabaster Box,” and although my rendition was a poor mimicry, it gave me reason to look more deeply at the story of the woman with the alabaster flask. Ever since presenting that song, the story has been special to me. Coming up on it in my devotions today, I was again moved by the telling.

I like to put myself in her shoes, like Cece’s song did. So often I feel that what I have to pour out for Jesus is so little; is it worth His time? I constantly fail and flail and fall, every day of my life; why bring all I have, and all I am, to Jesus? Why offer my pathetic sacrifice once more?

I’m flawed. Others mocked her sacrifice; could they not mock mine? Look at me. On fire for Jesus one day, and barely able to raise my head the next. It's not hard to see the discrepancy; it doesn’t take a sage to see the holes in my carefully crafted image. 

… Jesus didn’t come for the pharisees. 

… He didn’t even come to speak with only the “pure of heart.”

Jesus pardoned a thief in his last moments. He made sure to stop by a well one day, in the heat of the afternoon, just to make sure to see one particular adulterous woman. He spent time at the pool of Bethseda, and He called the little children to come near to Him.

I don’t the story of the woman in the story of the alabaster flask, and neither do you, but perhaps the only beautiful, halfway worthwhile thing she felt she could offer was a bottle of oil. She longed to bring Him something curated; something remarkable; something holy, but when she looked inside herself, she could only see a lack.

Pouring out the very best she had, perhaps her heart’s cry was, “I wish I had more to give,” but she wasn’t talking materially.

Jesus in the house of Simon waiting to be anointed; He was waiting for her. 

You don’t have to be perfect to bring your all to Jesus, either.

Maybe you don’t pray an hour a day. Maybe the Bible doesn’t speak to You every time You open it’s pages. Maybe words you wish you hadn’t said slip out more often than you’d like, and maybe you’ve not been able to live the “Christian” life others depict as precedented and sought-after.

Doesn’t matter.

Jesus didn’t come to save the holy, and guide the perfect.

He just wants you.