One of my greatest sins is allowing myself to believe that my insufficiency is more powerful than God's love and forgiveness. This mindset is something I've fought against for as long as I can remember. It's manifested itself in different ways as I've gotten older, but it's always present in some form. When I was younger I was terrified of God's punishing me for being disrespectful to adults or speaking harshly to my siblings. In middle school and early high school, I sobbed after reading Jonathan Edwards' resolutions because I knew I could never be that good. I could never want those things or love Jesus as passionately as Edwards. In college I felt guilty for not being as open-handed with my life as those who were going into foreign missions. And now I find myself looking at my selfishness in my relationships, my easily agitated temperament, and my overall self-absorption, wondering why I can't be patient, giving, loving. Wondering why God would want anything to do with me. But that thought is what discourages me most. How proud am I to believe that my sin can keep God from working in me and through me? How much do I cheapen His grace by declaring I am beyond help and outside of His righteous reach?
I've been constantly ruminating on these questions, these worries, the last several weeks. I've been sad and horrified with myself. But God has always refused to leave me to my lies. He proved this once again while I was reading Hebrews one evening. I got to chapter 12 and He gently unfolded the truth:
18-24 "For you have not come to the mountain that may be touched and that burned with fire, and to blackness and darkness and tempest, and the sound of a trumpet and the voice of words, so that those who heard it begged that the word should not be spoken to them anymore. (For they could not endure what was commanded: 'and if so much as a beast touches the mountain, it shall be stoned or shot with an arrow.' And so terrifying was the sight that Moses said, 'I am exceedingly afraid and trembling.') But you have come to Mount Zion and to the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, to an innumerable company of angels, to the general assembly and church of the firstborn who are registered in heaven, to God the Judge of all, to the spirits of just men made perfect, to Jesus the Mediator of the new covenant, and to the blood of sprinkling that speaks better things than that of Abel."
Yes, I am riddled with sin. But God has not left me to that. He has not left me at Mount Sinai to suffer under the yoke of the Mosaic law. He does not demand I live in fear and vulnerability of His glory, which may strike me down at my next selfish action. Rather, He has led me to Zion, the city of His Son. Not because I earned it, but because I'm His.
God further confronted me with this truth last Sunday at church. We sang "We Come to Jesus," which is based on the Hebrews passage above. I swear the song was written by an older and much, much wiser me. The song speaks so directly to my fears, it's uncanny. The first verse begins, "We have not come to the mountain of dreadful awe to tremble in darkness/But to the city of Zion, the house of God, the city of Jesus." I have exchanged trembling as an outsider for welcoming as a son. I reside no longer in the shadow of the fiery mountain, but rest and rejoice at the foot of the empty tomb. Jesus bought me that freedom. How can I still live in my fear?
The song gets even better. The best comes in the second verse: "I turned to see my Lord/ . . . /And He spoke with power/'I am He who is alive/And behold I died/To save the ones I love/To raise them up to life/Now you are Mine/And I am yours/Night has passed/Let us go to greet the bright eternal morn/ . . . /Come stand with Me at last/Alive forevermore.'"
Whoa. Just, whoa. What else can I say? Jesus Himself died to save me, whom He loves, for no reason that I can see, so I can be alive with Him. Whoa. This truth changes everything. I am His. I don't belong to sin anymore. How can I hear that and not rejoice? How can I wonder if God still accepts me when I wrong Him? He just told me He bought my life so I could be alive. That doesn't leave room for believing I am outside the power of His grace.
God has been tossing pebbles of truth at my window: "Hey, I'm the one in charge. This isn't about how greatly or frequently you sin. This is about how radically I can change you and use you for My glory. Stop crippling yourself with doubt. It's time to come outside and see what I can do. It's time to live freely in My love."
This invitation isn't one I plan to pass up. With his constant gentle coaxing and encouraging, God is showing me He's trustworthy. He's powerful and He's not letting me go, despite my shortcomings. I'm beginning to see more of Him and less of me. This is a good thing.
