I am one of the fortunate ones. I grew up with no doubt that
a higher, greater being existed. My first experiences with God came through people
who loved Him.
The experiences were not paragraphs or even sentences in my life;
they were more like dashes or commas.
My dad and mom, who taught me He is Holy and to be
respected.
Bible school teachers who taught me He is kind and good.
Sunday school teachers who did not know when I would be
there, yet they were prepared for me when I walked through the door.
A man and his wife who opened their home and taught me He is
the miracle worker.
And a preacher who was unafraid to speak in such a way as to
show me my sins…in living color.
I remember listening.
For all have sinned
and fall short of the glory of God…became personal.
My heart broke open and my sin poured out.
Oh, the shame of it…seeing my own sin.
Hanging my guilt-heavy head, not wishing to look up…
If we confess our sins
He is faithful and just to forgive us of our sins and cleanse us from all
unrighteousness…
“I’m sorry!” I cried.
His redeeming love began to find its way into my heart and
for an instant the shame was too great.
It was then that this Love mingled with my wrongdoing. Piece
by piece, my broken heart’s endless supply of sin dissipated. What was hopeless
just a moment earlier became whole.
That would be me.
Brand new.
Changed.
Transformed.
Forgiven.
Nearly 40 years later, experiencing God is still thrilling!
Having reflected on what He gave that Friday…
Having celebrated resurrection Sunday along with millions of
people all over the world…
Having embraced what I cannot fully understand…
Yes, I am as the thief on the cross.
Repentant.
Forgiven.
Every day is Sunday.
Amen, Every day is Christmas, every day is Thanksgiving, and every day is Sunday. God is good, all the time.
ReplyDelete