Dear Sin-Sick Soul

Dear sin-sick soul,

soul afraid,

soul staring wide-eyed at death, 
at sin exposed:

You there, with the knees sore and hands dirty from weeding, weeding, always weeding... are you discouraged, when the weeds keep coming back?

but I'm such a big helper!

Do you fear because of the strong ones, the ones that will not give up their roots? You pluck off the top and cover the rest, you smooth down the surface, but you know what is underneath. The roots, growing stronger, too strong for your hands or even your shovel. You fear the day when it breaks through the surface again, where everyone can see.

Stop it.

Just... stop.

You are not the gardener.

You are in the Gardener's care.

It is God who will finish this thing.

Those weeds that seek your destruction, that sin-sickness that threatens to devour you-- it is too much for you. But it is not too much for Him.

Safe in His grace, let His Word diagnose that ugliness, and fear it, fear it so that it will drive you to Him, to help and healing.

Lay down your tools and your crutches, and see the powerlessness of your own two hands.

Be still.

Wait on the Lord with open hands and infested heart.

Wait- and remember who you are.

Who- by grace- you are.

You are a child of God, weak and loved.

You are covered in the perfect forgiveness of Jesus.

Your sins have been answered for with His own blood,

blood that gets down to the deepest roots, destroying evil and growing new life.

Your sin-sickness, your terminal illness is no match for Him.

Jesus came precisely for this: to seek and save the lost-

to seek and save YOU.

It is God who will finish this thing.

And I am sure of this, that he who began a good work in you 

will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ.

Phillipians 1:6

---
Be alert and of sober mind. Your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour. Resist him, standing firm in the faith, because you know that the family of believers throughout the world is undergoing the same kind of sufferings.

And the God of all grace, who called you to his eternal glory in Christ, after you have suffered a little while, will himself restore you and make you strong, firm and steadfast. To him be the power for ever and ever. Amen.

(1 Peter 5)

originally published 5/2014

Sunday Brings out my Sin (Grace for the Good Girl)

Does Sunday morning ever seem to bring out the sin in you, or is it just me? Getting the kids ready for church, actually attempting to do my own hair and makeup for once, and then going out in PUBLIC with my crew...

It is hard work, and I do not always go to church with a shining halo.

Last Sunday was no exception.

-----

What a morning. It was actually going pretty well until that last few minutes before church.  The fighting and the fighting, and then suddenly the sharpie on the couch. 

WHAT!?  Sharpie on my SUEDE couch!!!

And my tongue loosed hellfire on them, on the big brother even more than the guilty 2yr old because he had the marker in the first place. 

And then they leave for church and again (AGAIN!) they fight and I am ANGRY and I give them the what- for.  My lecture was loud and long and complete with immature statements like “You guys have SO many sins to confess when you go to church today!” 

I suddenly realize it’s Sunday morning, and quiet, and we are outside, and my voice might be carrying and I am ashamed.

I am near tears, and yet the anger is not gone nor are the constant irritations.

Church next, and there it gets worse.

Their wiggles make me want to smash them.

The sermon is on humility, and taking the last seat instead of grabbing the first.

Great.

Pastor calls up the children and they gather around him for the children's sermon. I try to act like I think they are all so cute, and I listen.

And my God does work on my heart.

Again, I am shocked  at myself.

For two reasons.

One – the rage is a symptom of my ridiculous pride.

I shouldn't have to deal with this. I shouldn't have to help you guys work out your problems all day long. I should be able to have a couch without marker on it. I should be able to think without being interrupted by your NEEDS.

Two- even my tearful worry about this is pride.

That one really hurt.

How do I know that even my burning tears were pride? 

Because my tongue lashes out like this daily, but only this day am I upset to the point of tears about it. And suddenly I see: I am upset because I almost got caught. Because my rage came out in public, and I may or may not have been overheard, and if I WAS overheard, then… what do they think? 

My reputation! Oh my poor reputation!  And so the tears.

Not the children. 

Not the fact that my rage wounds those that I “love,” but my reputation. 

That’s what I really care about.  

Exposed. Proud in anger, and proud even in ‘shame’ about that anger.

My heart, Lord. 

You have SO much work to do on this heart of mine.

Lord, have mercy.

And again, He does.

I apologize to the kids right there in whispered words in the front pew, and they whisper grace back to me.

“I forgive you mommy. And I’m sorry, too.  Here, I drew you a picture.”

His grace reconciles us sinners, and His grace makes even someone like me lift my head.  

I am found. I am forgiven, and I am loved.

Behold, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sins of the world.

Behind the mask: an angry, needy girl who is NOT fine.

“I taught people around me that I had no needs 

and then I was secretly angry with them for believing me.” 

Grace for the Good Girl, p. 13

This seems to be a problem for “good girls.”

We work hard, we meet needs, we do the job in front of us, and we do it well.

We do it with eager hands and a smile, or we try to, and when we don’t feel like smiling we smile anyway. We get done whatever needs to be done. We are the responsible ones, the strong ones, the ones people come to with their problems. We like this reputation. We love living up to this expectation. We love encouraging, helping, and coming through in a pinch.

We love making peace, putting people at ease, and lifting burdens.

We hate the opposite.

We don’t want to be involved in conflict.

We definitely don’t want to be the ones causing it.

We don’t want people to be uncomfortable or angry or upset about anything. We make peace at all costs.

We especially don’t want people to feel angry or upset at us, so we morph like amoebas to avoid others’ unhappiness.

We don’t like seeing people with burdens that we can’t lift. We pile them on our shoulders.

We don’t like to add to anyone’s burdens. We pretend we have none of our own.

Ever.

We’re fine.

And we’d really like to be fine. We are trying very hard to be fine. We don’t mean to be dishonest… we just really, really don’t want to be anything other than fine. And we hope if we pretend to be fine for just a little longer, we really will be fine.

When we are alone in the dark, we might whisper a prayer to God for help, but if He tries to provide help by sending us an actual person for us to lean on, forget it.

Too uncomfortable.

Too hard.

We don’t want to be a burden.

So we hide. We wear masks. We ache.

We get angry when people don’t realize it, when they believe the masks we wear.

But we don’t know how to take the masks off.

As the author describes,

“Our desire to be the good girl, the good Christian, 

the good wife, and the good mom becomes the number one priority, 

and Jesus isn’t even in the room.” P. 32

Jesus isn't even in the room.

 What does that even mean?

Photo by Shalinee Kohli Murishwar:

 Follow Shalinee on instagram

If He were “in the room,” wouldn’t He just be standing shoulder to shoulder with that “good girl” in my head, that perfect version of myself that I never am? Wouldn’t He be standing there with His arms crossed, glaring at me like she does, telling me to do better, to try harder?

Wouldn’t He take her side?

No, He wouldn't. And this makes all the difference.

Jesus has compassion on us.

He opens his hands to tired, tangled “good” girls, and invites us to just come. Rest. Receive.

He sees through our masks right into all the ugliness, and still He says, come.

He takes our failures, our Fs, and our sins and buried them deep in His wounds.

He gives us His own robe of righteousness to wear, and He gives us His A +.

Our stubborn insistence to do it all on our own, in our way, on our strength, begins to be washed away in the flood of His love.

We learn to receive love from Him and from others, and we receive so much more than we give.

It comes down in a shower of grace, and we are refreshed.

Jesus Christ came to save sinners, to pour out his mercy on all people.

He came for you, and He continues to come for you, that you may have life and have it abundantly.

Father,

Forgive us for chasing expectations and guarding our reputations, 

for people pleasing and making ourselves slaves to guilt, 

and for doing even "good" things out of fear, not love.

Our works are filthy rags.

Refresh us with your mercy, and teach us to rest in Your goodness.

Help us to see the ways you care for us, 

in Your Word, 

and through the people you send into our lives.

We dare pray these things because of Jesus alone.

Amen.

 -----------------

-----------

Do you have trouble admitting when you're not "fine?"

Share your thoughts in the comments!

Do you know a friend who is exhausted by being fine all the time? 

Send some encouragement today.