I'm so utterly screwed without Jesus

You don’t know half of it! Seriously, it would be beyond ugly. And I’m not talking about the cosmic perspective of, you know, not even being born if He hadn’t made me, or that if He would withdraw his breath my heart would stop beating. Though that’s also true. No, I’m talking about how endlessly dependent on His presence, nearness, counsel, Word and relational affection I really am. Like one of my best friends said in a vulnerable moment the other day: “I’m the blind guy calling for mercy, I’m the poor widow begging for bread, I’m the one not daring even to lift his eyes towards heaven and the lame man needing healing to walk upright.” FYI, I am too. Gone are the days when I forgot who He is to me and I thought I had anything to offer on my own. At least I hope, by the grace of God, that those days are truly gone. They are the worst, for both me and the world around me. I told my friend to remind me, should I ever forget.