Thankful on a Thursday - I don't finish well.

I love to begin new things. I love fresh starts, new books, exciting ideas and adventures.

However, I am a horrible finisher. I'll start at least three new books at once and never finish any of them. Actually, now that I think about it, I'll start only one new book and still won't finish it.

I started the project of painting our downstairs, but never finished. I still have to touch up the ceiling in the entryway and kitchen, put another coat of paint on the doorway into the living room and finish the trim work around one of the windows in the nook.

I think it boils down to the fact that I get bored too easily. I'm far too easily distracted.

This bothers me deeply. Deep down, I'm begging the question of my heart:  Why can't I seem to finish things, and finish them well?

I have all of these swirling thoughts about being a perpetual starter, but never a good finisher. If I can't even commit myself to finishing a book, how will I ever expect to commit to something more important... like my marriage, my son, or my faith? How do I get the motivation to see things through?

More often than not, I'm usually motivated to finish something due to obligation, money or expectations. It seems that I'm rarely motivated by love, passion, joy and obedience.

This week is Holy Week... the days leading up to Good Friday and Easter... or rather, the death of Christ and the day of his resurrection. I've been reading the Easter story a lot over the past week, and I've even started reading it to Rowan for the first time. I become overwhelmed when my eyes reach the point in the story where Jesus prays in Gethsemane. Christ, knowing what is to come, asks His disciples to stay awake and keep watch for Him. In my version of the Bible, it says that "And going a little farther he fell on his face and prayed, saying, "My Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me; nevertheless, not as I will, but as you will." (Matthew 26:39, ESV)

Jesus, in His heart of hearts, asked God if He could quit the race. He didn't want to quit if it wasn't the Father's will, but He asked. In fact, Jesus asked twice more after that, so you know He really didn't want to hang on that tree for all of the human race if He didn't have to.

My eyes sting with the remembrance & anticipation of Good Friday. He chose to finish. He committed to the cause. He was mocked, jeered, humiliated. His clothes were taken from Him, He was beaten severely and a crown of thorns was pushed into the skin on his skull. His wrists and feet were fastened to a cross with big iron stakes. He hung there, fighting to breathe, suffocating.

He didn't deserve it.   I did. 

But He finished the race... and He finished for me, because I couldn't. He perfects me in all of the areas where I fall short. When I can't commit to something, He does. I'm not able to finish the race without Him.

So, this Thursday... on the eve of Good Friday... I am thankful. I'm not even sure "thankful" can quite describe how my heart is exploding with joy and gratitude for what was accomplished on the cross so long ago.

I'm thankful that He perfects me.
I'm thankful that I have Him to cling to in the moments where I feel like I can't finish.
I'm thankful that He didn't back out... even though He could have.
I'm thankful that He finished the race when I couldn't.

What are YOU thankful for this Thursday?

Please share your Thankful on a Thursday post with the link sharer provided below!

41. Really big giggles from a tiny little boy.

42. My funky coffee mug collection.

43. The way a cloudy and rainy day makes for the best snuggles and naps.

44. Long talks on the phone with best friends. 

45. The way he worries about me & cares for my heart.

46. Falling into good morning routines... that always include coffee.

47. How pictures from adventures passed can inspire thoughts of new adventures to come. 

48. The opportunity to spend every day on the Rogue River this summer.

49. How a good glass of red wine is the perfect companion to a hot bath.

50. Christ finished what we never could.