FORGIVE ME

One of our previous dogs, Sophie Mae, reached adult behavior by 6 months of age. If she wanted to chew on something like a chair leg, I’d just give her a chew toy instead and say, “Sophie’s toy.” She’d look at me with a face that said, “well, alright, do you think I’m stupid?” When I told her “good girl, all is forgiven,” she’d say, “oh goodie, let’s play ball!”  The problem never presented itself again, as she took correction as instruction, learned from it, and went happily on her way. 

Lily Rose, on the other hand, was such a sensitive little soul. She was so aware of everything she had ever done that she lived in fear of being murdered by me, which is silly, ’cause I never murdered her, not even once. Not when she chewed furniture or shoes. Not when she visited the kitty box looking for a midnight buffet. Not when she shredded toilet paper all over the house.

Lily’s way of dealing with anxieties, after destroying something, was to hurl herself on her back and go into leg-kicking spasms of guilt while shrieking, “forgive me, don’t kill me!” Even though I was far from happy about her escapades, we kept working on the anxieties and after a couple of years, the destructive tendencies subsided. But through her life, she absorbed and held onto everything that she, or Sophie, or every dog in the world, has done wrong, living in a constant state of self-imposed guilt and unforgiveness, spasming on the floor at the least little thing, sometimes for hours, laying there on her back, internally screaming “I'm horrible, don't look at me!” She never truly believed she was forgiven, even as I’m saying, “let’s play ball.” She’s saying, “no, I can’t play! I can’t forgive myself!.”

Which has led me to think about stuff in my own life that I’ve thought I couldn’t forgive myself for. Imagine my surprise the day I realized that God never says anything about that. Because it’s not my job to forgive me. It’s already accomplished! If I insist on wallowing in my sin, I can’t commune with other believers, and I can’t fellowship with God. Because of what Christ has done on the cross, all my sins have been permanently forgiven (Luke 5:20; 1 John 2:12) and I'm reconciled to God. If I selfishly insist on wallowing in my already-forgiven sin, I’m telling Him that what He did isn’t good enough, that instead I still have to fix things for myself. I'm ignoring the obvious -- that “there is no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus” (Romans 8:1).

Thank You, my Jesus, that because of Your perfect work on the cross, I can move on in joyful communion with You. If all I do is concentrate on my past sins, or how I might sin tomorrow, I’m fixing my eyes on myself, when I should be focusing on You (Hebrews 12:2).  I do still sin, but upon repentance and asking for Your forgiveness, I truly believe that I'm forgiven because You said so (1 John 1:9), not based upon my own flawed feelings. Because of that, I can experience daily freedom, joy, and the peace that only You can give (John 14:27).

WHATEVER YOU DO ...

My mother was born with artsy-crafty genetics on steroids. No object is safe from her bedazzling, sewing, or painting talent. Numerous attempts were made by both of us to activate my own gene, but it soon became apparent that mine was dead on arrival. It also became apparent that, as a teenager, I needed, what’s the word ... oh yeah, motivation! I had a tendency to do things halfway. If at all. I believe the biblical definition is “sluggard.”

This was probably mom’s motivation decades ago in presenting me with her wee painted rock emblazoned with “do it right.” She figured I’d carry it with me for the rest of my life and become encouraged to be sluggardly no longer. I have indeed carried it with me. Sad to say, the admonition to do things completely and correctly didn’t kick in until a few decades later. 
I’ve recently noticed several t.v. commercials pushing the idea that doing things halfway is never a good idea. I suspect the marketing directors’ moms were behind this. Offering a rain-drenched person half an umbrella, or painting only half the house, is rather obvious slothfulness. Diagnosing a problem, but not fixing it, such as a dentist telling a patient that he has a really bad cavity, then walking away, is downright cruel. Or telling homeowners that their house is infested with termites, but too bad, you’re on their own! The lesson is that people must be willing to do things completely, to do things right!
Mom’s desire that I not be a sluggard finally found its way into me via Scripture. Once the Lord saved me, I found it very comforting to know that Jesus was never a sluggard, that He didn’t have to be prodded and reminded by His Father “to finish the work” given Him (John 4:34). He didn't just diagnose our sinfulness, and then tell us, "you're outta luck, bye-bye!"  On the cross, when He said, “It is finished” (John 19:30), His work was complete and it was right. Salvation was secured at that moment, to God’s glory.
My Jesus, how I thank You that You set Your face to do what You came to do. In Scripture, and by Your eternal life, You are an example for me. I’ve learned that whatever my hand finds to do, I’m to do it with all my might; that whatever I do, do my work heartily, as for the Lord; and that I not be lacking in diligence, serving You (Ecclesiastes 9:10; Colossians 3:23; Romans 12:11). I praise and thank You, that everything You do throughout all eternity is right.

FALLING OFF THE WAGON

Y'all try not to be jealous, but … I am the Queen of Klutz.  Most of my acquaintances know that I accidentally knock elbows, knees, and forehead all over my house, into walls and into furniture.  I’ve fallen off chairs, off my bicycle, off my front porch into a rose bush, and I even fell into an open grave once.  Don’t ask.

I’ve also learned that it’s possible to fall in other ways.  Falling off the proverbial “wagon” means, in my case, falling off a carefully-constructed diet plan.  This year I’ve been eating almost exclusively healthy food.  Yet when confronted with a huge chocolate cake, I tripped over its 6-foot shadow and fell face first into that pile of gooey wonderfulness.  That’s certainly not MY fault.  Is it?  Surely, being klutzy, and falling off things into other things, can be blamed upon The Fall!?  Good, we agree, now I feel better.

HowEVer … it’s occurred to me that sometimes, maybe, perchance … I don’t just fall off the wagon, nor am I pushed off by enablers with ornery tendencies.  I hate to say it out loud, but there are those rare times when instead of falling, I actually dive into temptations and sins headfirst, whooping with glee all the way down, like extreme bungee-cord jumping.  I hear certain people (sometimes just my own voice) chirp to me, “ya gotta have fun sometimes!”   And shoving away any common sense at all, I yell, “okay!!” and off I leap into my sin du’jour where wallowing commences.

I don’t think there’s anything in Scripture specifically against pastry sin (well, okay, there’s gluttony).  There’s plenty about using discernment in hanging out with (alleged) friends who may enjoy leading me astray (Proverbs 22:24-25; 1 Corinthians 15:33).  Isn’t it interesting how we want to blame somebody else?  How about Eve!  Because just as she saw and lusted, then dove headlong into sin, I’m also prone to leaping off my sanctification wagon.  Yeah, it’s all her fault.

My loving, patient Lord Jesus, although it’s depressing to know that sometimes I obstinately choose to sin, it’s so mega-comforting to know that You understand.  You were tempted because You shared in flesh and blood, yet without sin (Hebrews 2:18).  My Jesus, please cause me, on a daily (sometimes hourly) basis to choose NOT to dive into sin, but into your grace.  Help me not to walk according to the flesh, but by the Spirit (Galatians 5:16-26).  And how I praise You for the blessed reminder that there is now no condemnation in You, because You have set me free from the law of sin and death (Romans 8:1-2).  Just as the Holy Spirit intercedes for me from within, so do You intercede for me from above (Romans 8:26, 34).  As I walk with You through the rest of my days, I anticipate less spiritual klutziness, so no more blaming allowed!

CATCH ME IF YOU CAN

Upon a Time, there was a kindly crazy cat lady who generously fed and housed feral kitties on her back deck.  Eventually, the lady thought it would be in their best interests if they were captured and taken to a real home with food, shelter, and love.  So the elaborate cage was installed, and one by one, the two babes (and their mama) followed the tempting treats into the cage, and off they went to a better life.  Now they frequently send postcards of their days on the beach.

 

However, the last kitty, named Bernie, has steadfastly refused to enter the cage.  He knows there’s food in there, but he’s too “smart” to humble himself, accept help, and enter into a new and comfortable future.  He says to the lady, “I’m quite happy, thank you, with my independence.”  Even in sweltering summer and frozen-tundra winter, and low food supplies, uncouth beasts, and gross diseases, Bernie says he knows best and chooses to do what he wants, regardless of the outcome for himself, or the other ferals he will soon lead astray.  Yessir, Bernie is just too smart for his own good.  He will wind up starved, cold, and alone, and he’ll pass on fatal diseases to others, but hey, he still has his pride!

And as He is prone to do, the Lord showed me myself, both before, and during, my salvation.  He is very diligent to explain in His Word that every single sinner is born with chronic “wise in their own eyes” syndrome (Judges 21:25; Proverbs 3:7, 26:12; Isaiah 5:21; Romans 12:16).  That’s why nobody comes to God on their own, because their Tyrannosaurus pride obscures their spiritual vision, and they’re unable to see or love God.  He loved me first, humbled me to see Who He is, and drew me to Himself.  Yes, I am saved, but I’ve discovered that dismantling of self-sufficient pride continues to be a lifelong project.

Motivation is key – why do I want to be humble, when being self-sufficiently prideful and conceited seems to be more fun?  Well, do I love God and want to please Him?  Or don’t I?  Well, yes, I do want to please Him.  Even though there are times when my own self seems more important than my own God, in no way should I believe that my earthly accumulated intelligence supersedes His divine and perfect wisdom.  Listening to Him, and not me, is my foremost motivation (Job 15:8).  Dumping my pride will also prevent me from taking a physical and/or spiritual “tumble” (Proverbs 16:18) and dragging someone else along with me.  If I’m to be fruitful to others, I must first be humble (Philippians 2:3-4).  If others are offering me their own fruit, I must be even more humble.

My Father, it’s obvious that You detest haughty eyes (Proverbs 6:16-17), and that You love humility (Isaiah 66:2, James 4:10, 1 Peter 5:6).  You caught me and humbled me, when I was still too “smart” for my own good.  My Jesus, You were born to die, and You humbled Yourself on the Cross, for my benefit and God’s glory.  You are God’s perfect gift, and indeed, You are the gift that keeps on giving, all year long.  Your endless mercy and grace is what keeps me from wanting to display feral pride and instead, being daily grateful for all Your provisions.  Because of this, I indeed feel very “merry” every Christmas, and every day in between!