grace

I can never know or imagine the depth of my sin. Even when I am convicted of it and it weighs heavy on my heart, I still am only perceiving the very edge of the treason I have committed again holy God. It not only grieves His heart when I act under the bondage of sin, but I believe it does something much deeper to Him, which I don’t pretend to understand much less begin to explain.

And He sees every one. Every wrong word, deed, motive, every one. He sees them not only from the surface as we do, but also the root of them – what they do to our very souls, consciences, spirits. He fully understands the degree to which each sin separates us from our Father, our Creator.

Have we no hope then? If I can never comprehend the seriousness of my sin, much less rectify all of the wreckage it has left behind in my life and others, what then? I suppose I can stay right here – aware of my severe failure and unable to do anything about it. Cognizant of my all-encompassing humanness that is incapable of understanding with any measure of reality the severity of my sin, and therefore incapable of wrapping my brain around what to do about it. Wallowing in the sewage of what sin has done to me. Forever crying, “What is wrong with me?! I am destroyed and insufficient. I am worthless and all together unable to change. Unable to even breathe when face to face with my depravity. Until I can identify what is wrong with me, I cannot change and I can never identify to the depths of my soul what is wrong with me, so I can therefore never change.”

What pain! What sorrow! What hopeless estate!

Tears fall and breath shortens as the reality of what I am begins to dawn on my limited faculties.

and yet some light flickers smally in the corner. what is it? what does it mean? light in this pit? how can it be?

grace

Yes, God is a God of wrath and yes, He hates sin with an expansive hatred I will never know.

But He loves
me.

And He does so with an encompassing grace that does not overlook the sin I commit, but more importantly, He forgives that sin.

The weight of what a wretch I am crushes down on me, but God stands over me, bearing the weight on His own back. Old sins haunt my memory and whisper of my inadequacy, but God wraps them in a blanket and hurls them into the sea. New sins remind me of my ever-failing humanity, but God puts both hands on my face and turns my eyes to see His. “I’ve got that one covered, too, child.”

How?

grace

It does not make sense. It is not logical in human currency.

grace

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