Missing the Mark & the Mercy That Follows

A Letter from the Wilderness

Liturgical Season: The Approach of Great Lent

Dear Fellow Pilgrim,

Today, I came across the words of a fellow sojourner—
a cry from the depths, raw and aching, heavy with the weight of sin,
burdened by the fear that he was growing worse, not better,
drifting from the Light rather than walking toward it.

I felt his sorrow.

I have known that ache, the whisper in the soul that says:

"No matter how hard you try, you will never be holy."
"You will never get this right."
"You are only becoming worse."

Perhaps you have heard it, too.

The road to Salvation is not smooth. It is not effortless. It is full of stumbling, full of falling face-first into the dust, full of wondering if you will ever become what God has called you to be. But, dear friend, hear this:

Righteousness is not about never falling.
It is about getting back up, again and again,
and turning to the One who makes all things new.
It is about communion with Love Himself.

I. The Battle Within

When Adam fell, all of humanity fell with him. But Christ—the Second Adam—stood where Adam failed. He is the Mark that the first Adam missed. And what is Christ? "God is love." — 1 John 4:8. Love is the mark. Love is the standard. Love is what we are measured by.

This is why, in Christ’s parable of the Last Judgment (Matthew 25), He does not separate the sheep and the goats based on their failings, but on their love.

"I was hungry, and you fed Me."
"I was naked, and you clothed Me."
"I was sick, and you visited Me."

What does He say to those who did not do these things?
Not, "You fell too many times."
Not, "Your sins were too great."

But, "You did not love."

This is what we will be judged on. Not our failings. Not our stumbling. But whether we became love, whether we became like Him.

II. Steadying the Flame

My husband once said something that has never left me: "God has purposed that a man who falls continuously but keeps getting back up should be called righteous." And Scripture echoes this truth: “Though the righteous fall seven times, they rise again.” — Proverbs 24:16

This is where mindfulness becomes essential. Not the empty mindfulness of the world, but the kind that sees through the eyes of Christ. When we fall, we must remember to:

• Observe non-judgmentally – See yourself as Christ sees you: not as a failure, but as one learning to love.

• Observe one-mindfully – Do not dwell on the past or despair over the future. Walk in the mercy of today.

• Observe effectively – Do not waste your sorrow. Let it turn you back toward God.

For what is repentance, if not a continual turning? A re-orienting of our hearts back toward Love?

III. Wisdom for the Journey

C.S. Lewis once wrote these words, and I return to them often:

“Do not be too easily discouraged. Perhaps by God’s grace our imperfections can be made the material for His work: to show His power and mercy. The self you loathe is neither the real you (but only a temporary cloud which will vanish) nor yet a real thing at all. God knows what a wretched machine you are trying to drive. Keep on. Do what you can. One day, He will fling it on the scrapheap and give you a new one. And then you may astonish us all—not least yourself.”

This is the mystery of mercy: We see our sin as immovable mountains, but Christ sees them as dust, to be swept away by the winds of grace. And so, I cling to the words of Psalm 103: “As far as the east is from the west, so far has He removed our transgressions from us.” That is how far He removes them. That is how quickly He forgives. That is how freely He loves.

IV. The Liturgical Rhythm of Healing

Lent is upon us. And this year, I see it not as a test, not as a proving ground for my own strength, but as a season of return. It is not about flawless fasting. It is not about never failing. It is about learning, again and again, how to love. It is about turning our gaze back to the Mark—Christ Himself. It's about rising up, recalling that Jesus also rose, so that we could finally "hit the mark" that was missed so long ago—the one that caused that separation from God who is love itself.

Closing Prayer

O Christ, You who bore the weight of our humanity, who did not turn from us in our failures, but lifted us from the dust—have mercy on me. Heal me in Your steadfast lovingkindness, for I have missed the mark. Teach me to love, not in word only, but in action, in sacrifice, in truth. Teach me to rise again, no matter how many times I fall. And when I stand before You at the Last Judgment, let it not be said that I never fell, but that I never ceased to love.

Amen.



When you look at your life, do you define yourself more by your failures or by your love?

How does knowing that Christ judges us not by our sins, but by our love, change the way you see yourself?