I got into a pretty heated discussion a few weeks ago.
It's taken me this long to write about it because I really haven't wanted to look it in the face. It was ugly and unnecessary and I'll be the first to say I wasn't totally innocent.
I said some things and the other party said some things. And I walked away asking myself, "What in the world just happened?"
I also walked away more than a bit triggered. I know, I know, my millennial is showing, but it's true. The person on the other side of the conversation spewed some pretty brutal, incredibly malicious hate in my direction, and suddenly my thick skin felt thin and fragile.
One thing, in particular, this person said that stuck with me the most was, "Well, at least I've never ______."
And they were right, they hadn't. But I had. And suddenly, I felt like I was standing there naked in front of this person. Exposed and embarrassed and — if we're showing all of our cards here — angry.
This person has since asked for forgiveness and I have given it, and vice versa. But whew. For a while, the instant replay wasn't looking good for the home team.
I spent days zoning out of reality and picking at this wound. Just as it would start to scab back over, there I was, peeling it back.
I could hear old thoughts begin to rattle to life. Old feelings of shame and ruthless flashbacks of shortcomings felt like trying to find my way to the shore, fighting for my life to come up for air, and being pummeled to death by salty waves.
But God, His pockets deep with mercy, reached down and took hold of my flailing hand just as I felt my last ounce of energy conceding to drown.
He lifted my limp body from the water and wrapped Himself around me. And as He did, He gently reminded me of the broken people who had gone before me.
Rehab, a prostitute.
David, an adulterer.
Noah, a drunk.
Jonah, a runner.
Martha, a worrier.
Jacob, a cheater.
Paul, a murderer.
All were given a story of restoration to tell from the moment of their transformation. All reflect and boast the redemptive heart of Jesus.
My sin didn't reinvent any wheel. I wasn't the first to break His heart, and surely I wouldn't be the last. Not only that but these instances that haunted me had already long been dealt with.
Forgiven. And the Devil is a liar.
Hallelujah, the God I serve isn't in the business of perfect people, but rather a bunch of retched, imperfect folks like me who desperately want to look more like Him.
I've decided that I love my story. Every wrong turn, and every bumpy road I took led me to the feet of Jesus.
Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already arrived at my goal, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me. Brothers and sisters, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus (Philippians 3:12-14).
