The Truth about Sin and the Redeemed

Evangelicals are fond of the ideology that everything is covered by the blood of Jesus.  There’s no sin that his sacrifice can’t atone for.  And this is a good thing, because it’s true.  We evangelicals know that the wages of sin is death; and the death of Jesus, offered once for all, is the payment accepted on our behalf.  The Scriptures abound with this truth.  What I don’t find is a sliding scale of which sin is worse than another.  I find no formula for:

Sin X requires 3 drops of the blood of the Lord, while Sin Y requires 2 whole pints. 

Once you were alienated from God and were enemies in your minds because of your evil behavior.  But now he has reconciled you by Christ’s physical body through death to present you holy in his sight, without blemish and free from accusation ~ Colossians 1:21-22 {emphasis mine}

I cannot find this prescription in Scripture because it is not there.  The truth is that each and every sin is first and foremost an act of rebellion against Almighty God; secondly, it is an act against His creation (self, other person, or nature) of which He has all proprietary rights.  I say this, because what follows is going to bother some people.  Some folks who have worked very hard to maintain as righteous a life as they could, sinning as absolutely little as possible; people who may truly be able to say, “follow me as I follow Christ.”*  But the truth is that no matter who you are, what you or have not done:

Each. Sin. Cost. Precisely. the Same. 

Don’t you realize that those who do wrong will not inherit the Kingdom of God? Don’t fool yourselves. Those who indulge in sexual sin, or who worship idols, or commit adultery, or are male prostitutes, or practice homosexuality, or are thieves, or greedy people, or drunkards, or are abusive, or cheat people—none of these will inherit the Kingdom of God.  Some of you were once like that. But you were cleansed; you were made holy; you were made right with God by calling on the name of the Lord Jesus Christ and by the Spirit of our God.  You say, “I am allowed to do anything”—but not everything is good for you. And even though “I am allowed to do anything,” I must not become a slave to anything. ~1 Corinthians 6:9-12 {emphasis mine}

 Each one cost the very life blood of God’s Only Son, Jesus Christ.  All of it.  Whether you’ve taken a stapler from work, or you’re the head of Enron.  Whether you’ve held anger in your heart towards your parents/spouse/child, or you’ve committed serial murder.  Whether you’ve only looked at the Sport’s Illustrated bikini models that one time, or your internet stable would be Solomon’s envy.  Whether you’ve stared at the ground trying to ignore the homeless person asking for help, or you’ve stocked piled humanitarian supplies to sell on the black market to the highest bidder.    

Any shade of sin cost Christ everything. 

And He paid it.  For Love.  For Hope.  For Healing.  For Restoration.   

If you have not accepted Christ’s sacrifice on your behalf, dearest one, I pray that you that do.  For there is nothing that you can do; no benevolence great enough to erase the sin-DNA coursing through all humanity, no deed good enough to tip the scales of righteousness in your favor.  There is only the blood of Jesus.

If you have accepted this gift, beloved, I am rejoicing for you.  For as one prone to fallenness, but for the grace of the Father, the love of the Son, and the presence of the Spirit, I am so delighted that you and I have been saved from ourselves and our sins. 

From here, followers, we must remember that every sin cost Christ the same.  So that we when look at others, we cannot call them by the label their sin mars them with.  For in Christ, there are no murders, no thieves, no fornicators, no liars, no abusers, no drunks. 

In Christ, there are only the redeemed saints. 

Saints who, while rejoicing in their new identities, must always recall from whence they came. 

Once you were dead because of your disobedience and your many sins.  You used to live in sin, just like the rest of the world, obeying the devil—the commander of the powers in the unseen world.  He is the spirit at work in the hearts of those who refuse to obey God.  All of us used to live that way, following the passionate desires and inclinations of our sinful nature. By our very nature we were subject to God’s anger, just like everyone else. ~Ephesians 2:1-3 {emphasis mine}

An abortionist, forgiven by Christ, is the same as the little boy or girl who gave their lives to the Lord at 4, only  ever lying to his/her mom.  A terrorist, redeemed by Jesus, is the same as the missionary, bringing God’s Word and love to people the world over.  A pimp, a prostitute, or a john, saved by the Lord, is the same as Chuck Swindol, Beth Moore, or Billy Graham.

At the foot of the cross, we are all the same – sinners, in desperate need of our Savior.

This truth, dear friend, frees us to minister with Love.  Because we know, we are intimately familiar with, the sin ghetto in which all humanity struggles – until accepting Jesus’ rescue.  The truth of who we were, joined with the truth of who we are now lets us embody our new identity as made-righteous-in-Christ, so that we may shower His grace and love upon the lost and hurting in this dark world.  It allows us to use our hands, our words, and our hearts on behalf of God’s kingdom in the lives of the people He came to save.  The people who are the same as you and I were, not so very long ago.  The only thing that separates us now is our acceptance of the grace and love of our Lord, Jesus Christ.  May we bridge that gap with our outpouring of His love into the desperate and hopeless world, to which we have been called as ministers of Christ’s grace. 

~Amen

 

*{Before venturing further, I will say that I am so very thankful for people who live this way.  May you continue to be a beautiful light pointing to the Christlikeness towards which each of us should strive!}

 

 

Forgive thine enemies

Read: Matthew 5:43-48, Luke 23:34, 1 Peter 3:18

 “Give me grace to forgive them.  ‘Cause I feel like the one loosing.”

~ Tenth Avenue North.

Love your enemies.  Pray for those who persecute you.   As you forgive those who sin against you, so you will be forgiven.  Forgive as you have been forgiven.    

The repetition in scripture illuminates the importance.  And it sounds so easy, doesn’t it?  One word to articulate the praxis of the gospel: a,.fes, forgive.[1]  An imperative, though not always a command, that is stative.  In other words, be in the state of perpetually forgiving; or in the negative, do not live in un-forgiveness. 

               But how? 

We are often told to simply let it go, put it behind you, move on.  Isn’t there a colloquialism (or a pin at the very least) stating that “the first to apologize is the strongest; the first to forgive is the bravest; and the first to forget is the happiest…”?  The implication is that if I can just forget the wrongs inflicted upon me, I’ll be free from the poisonous root of bitterness.  From the suffocating soul-death of un-forgiveness.  Common wisdom goads us to pair forgiving with forgetting. 

An amnesiatic grace.

But is that really what forgiveness is?  Ignoring pain?  Making trivial what wounds us?  Pretending the hurt never occurred in the first place?  I have to offer that is it, in fact, not what grace is at all.  Jesus didn’t pretend that a woman caught in the very act of adultery hadn’t done what her accusers said she’d done. After her accusers left, Christ didn’t say, “I have forgotten your sins.”  No, He told her to “go now and leave your life of sin.”[2]  That very statement acknowledges that she was in the wrong, that she had committed a transgression against her husband and against God.   He didn’t say to Simon, while eating at his table, that the sins of the woman washing His feet with her tears were forgotten; Jesus said that her many sins were forgiven.  The inclusion of quantity indicates that the individual sins were not forgotten; but that instead, each and every one of them were forgiven.[3]  Nor, as the Messiah hung upon the cross did He cry out, “Father, forget that they’re doing this to Me.”  No.  Jesus said, “Forgive them, Father, for they know not what they do.”[4] 

Forgiveness, dear one, requires us to acknowledge that we have been hurt.  It is actually an identification of a wrongdoing.  Followed by releasing our right to retribution.  Laying down the privilege of retaliation at the foot of the cross, as God’s right to punish our sins is set beneath that very same cross.  I believe, where John Wayne a theologian, he might say it thus: Forgiveness isn’t forgetting; it’s being hurt but loving that person anyway.

I have to be honest, dearest reader, there is someone I am daily (and oh how I mean daily: as in moment to moment, breath to breath, every single day) struggling to forgive right now.  Because this is a public forum, I will not divulge details.  However, this individual has wreaked havoc on my family’s life for upwards of seven months now.  And this person does so without any recourse for their actions.[5]  So that every time I feel I have gotten a handle on this person’s antics, another wave comes rolling in.  And I find myself crouched low in the tall grass, hiding; waiting for the next blow.  Hesitant and fearful.  And finally, in truth, understanding why David could write in the Psalms as he did: calling out for the destruction of his enemies; but always ending with the sovereignty of God.    

My heart has cried out, in both anger and anguish, to the Lord: How does one forgive someone so bent on destruction?  And through my shaking, my body’s reaction to the violent swells of animosity within me, and my tears, an outpouring of helplessness, the Holy Spirit whispered to my spirit.  As delicately as a butterfly landing on velvet petals, I was suddenly awash with peace.    

 

     I am to forgive this person as Christ forgave me. 

It requires the recognition that the perpetrator is a sinner; bent on darkness, yes, but so was (and sadly am) I.  It requires that I acknowledge my hurt on the razor-edge of their tongue, as I have wounded others with mine.  It also requires that I realize that Christ shed the same blood, out of the same love, for this person as He did for me.  He died the same death, in the same hope that they would accept His sacrifice for their sins, as He did for me.  He loves this person with the same fierce and eternal love as He does me.

And in the context of this humility, this recognition of who I am and who Jesus is, I can truthfully acknowledge my wounds and lay my hurts at the foot of His cross.  And say,

                I forgive them, Lord.  As You have forgiven me.    

 

---

[1] Luke 23:34: “And Jesus said, ‘Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do.’”

[2] John 8:11, full story John 8:1-11

[3] Luke 7:36-50

[4] Luke 23:34

[5] Forgive my grammatical incorrectness, but to protect the identity of this person, I am using an androgynous plural instead of any identifying singular.

Identified by Grace

A Precursor to Declaration 10.

[Spoiler alerts/trigger warnings:  my full testimony, which is in the works, involves abortion.  Read with appropriate care.]

 

For me, grace lives in a certain living room and on a particular mountain top.  I have seen its lithe and willowy arms softly curl about shoulders hung low with grief and bondage and failure; watched as it drew ethereal thumb across wounded visage, wiping away the tears of too much hurt and too much darkness.  And I have seen grace weep, too.  I have fought for this grace on behalf of so many beautiful prisoners; been injured and exhausted, with dented shield and bloodied sword, that they might have the victory given me.  I have heard the thunderous roar of armies of angels give standing ovation when this grace is believed and accepted.  And I have been afforded the honor of witnessing countenances grow luminous as the breath of freedom finally pierces their lungs. I have had the distinct privilege to watch these once shackled souls take their place in the kingdom; not as wretches scurrying about furtively as though they don’t belong, but as beloved and doted upon children of the King, who have a purpose as His emissaries, His image, His very presence to a broken and mutilated world. 

I can tell you, without hesitation or doubt, that Grace is the most beautiful thing in all the world.  It is the very bent of Faith, the climax of Hope, the truest expression of Love.  

It is to this living room, and this mountain, that my thoughts always turn when I look hard after Grace.  [Followed closely with a certain pew in a Baptist church tucked in to ice and berms on the last frontier, where I finally trusted just enough to have the entirety of my sins removed from my shoulders; a burden physically lifted from me.]  I think of these places because that is where Grace was most evident, most palpable, most visible. 

But Grace is all around.  All the time.

Before I can really address Grace, I have to know who I am in Christ.  Because for a very, very long time I held onto an identity that was not true to the Grace which had come at such a high cost.  One that told me that I had to be good enough to deserve God’s love, because of my past; for I was without doubt far worse than any other sinner planted on the pews around me.  And then, even after God used His word and His ministers to remove that lie from my life, I found myself floundering in another.  The lie that Grace saw me through a lens of redemption, a filter dependent on my past that it might define my present and future.  I was Jenni, the post-abortive woman whom Jesus saved.  And while this title is true, I am post-abortive and Jesus did forgive, save, redeem, and restore me.  Neither He, nor God the Father, nor the Holy Spirit have ever called me Jenni-the-post-abortive-woman-who-has-now-been-redeemed-and-set-free.  Not before my abortion, not during, not after when I walked ceaselessly into the darkness that followed, and not even after I allowed His Grace to wash over this pain and to ultimately remove it and make me clean and whole once again. 

The Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit have always called me:

          Jenni, My beloved.

Once I traded my sin for Christ's righteouness, there has been no sin attached to my name in the eyes of Jesus.  Though there has been in the eyes of His followers.  And for a time, I allowed myself to be defined by it.  I wore my scarlet A for the glory of His kingdom: surely, my purpose was to show others that even someone like me could be saved.  And I believed that the only calling someone like me could have would be as a post-abortive women who ministers to other post-abortive women.  Because that was who I am. 

And yet, in the scriptures we see that God sent the most zealous of the Jews to bring the truth of Jesus to the Gentiles.  We find that a five-times scorned foreign woman was the first missionary of the gospel.  A prince of Egypt delivered the Hebrews, a woman Judge lead Israel against their foes, an unwed teenager gave birth to the Messiah, and the man who denied Christ three times led the church in Rome.  God doesn’t appear to be in the habit of pigeon-holing people into the roles for which they are most logically suited.

So must it be with me.  And with you, dear one.  Because the only identity I want to claim is the one by which Grace has always known me: Jenni, beloved.  Yes, God can, has, and I have to assume will use my testimony of His Grace to build His kingdom.  But I also trust that He will do it as it suits Him; not as it suits me or anyone else around me.  If I am to minister to women or girls or couples who have experienced abortions, then it will be by His summoning and authority alone; not by the suggestion of humanity.  Or if I am to share this story of beautiful and wild grace with those who have no knowledge or experience with abortion, then it will be by God’s calling and power, for I will be quite out of my league. 

Yet, I know that the call of Grace is meant for every heart.  And it is winsome and overwhelming.  And it is the most beautiful thing in all the world.       

Jason Gray: "Remind Me Who I Am"

             

If you have experienced an abortion in your past, please know that there is hope and healing through the grace of the cross, beloved.  Christ’s sacrifice is sufficient; and His love is greater than our darkest moments and His mercy pierces our longest night.  If you have questions, concerns, or just to need to talk, I am always available.  Visit my ministry website at http://aletheiaministries.webs.com/ and click on the “Contact” button at the top of the page.  This will send a confidential e-mail to my private, personal account.  And I will respond in the same manner: confidentially and privately.  But know that no matter what your past, present, or future struggle, you are greatly delighted in.  And you are loved more than the weight of the universe.  And there is always hope for those who look to Jesus.        

The clothes I'm going to wear

Declaration 6 [part I]:   The new creation that I am wears gentleness and kindness every day.

Read: 1 Corinthians 13, and Colossians 3

I will admit that in my frazzled, distracted, striving existence, and despite numerous nightmares to the contrary, I have yet to leave the house without pants on.  Thank goodness.  Though for those of you who know me, you know that there are days when this is a feat in and of itself.  However, if I am honest I cannot count the number of days I’ve run out the door naked.

Spiritually naked.  My forgiveness coat slung over my comfy chair beside my Bible, where I’ll remember it after I’ve dug deep into the Word.  My gentleness chemise hanging on the back of the bathroom door, where I’ll no doubt put it on after a nice shower.  My kindness kilt hanging in my closet, ready for when I put my best foot forward as my public persona, and present by best self to non-family people.  And my foundation garments of love, the ones that keep me from *ahem* spilling out all over the place, lying in a rumpled pile beside my bed because I just didn’t have time to put them on in the morning rush.   

As comedic [and hopefully not horrifying] of a metaphor as the above is, I’m employing it to remind myself of how absolutely important it is for me to purposefully put each of these traits on every. single. day.  Before I leave the sanctity of my bedroom and face any member of the human race.

Forgiveness…
The crux of grace, the thesis of the gospel, the reason I can open my eyes each morning.  Giving what’s been given to me.  Letting go of the proprietary right to vengeance, because God has canceled my debt to Him through the blood of His one and only Son.  Releasing the right to retribution for the wrongs inflicted upon me, just as God has removed the wrongs I’ve inflicted upon Him.  Saying, “I forgive you,” to those who have hurt/offended/actually wronged me, when possible, and meaning it.  Even if I have to say it again [mentally to remind myself] every day thereafter.  Because forgiveness isn’t a feeling; it’s an active choice.

Gentleness…
That attitude and behavior which turns away wrath, or at the very least won’t escalate the situation.  It’s the next logical step after forgiveness: “I forgive you for how you’re treating me.  I can answer you calmly.”  Or “I see your pain, through the cruelty in your words.  And I can respond with peace.”  It is the realization that every other breathing human (save the One) is sinful, and will at times fail, and is therefore in need of grace,  Just like me.  And I should treat them as such.

Kindness…
The mode of being which calls forth the best in others, which author Robert Louis Stevenson called the essence of love.  On the surface it sounds like gentleness.  But I think it goes deeper.  Gentleness is responsive.  Kindness is proactive.  Kindness notices the unique in each person, the thing about them that makes them completely different from every other person to walk this planet.  And kindness rejoices in that, with that person, for that person, and about that person.  It seeks out the good in others; the Imago Dei in those flesh-bound souls who were created with the greatest good in mind, by the only source possible: a perfect, holy, and Almighty God. 

Love…
The greatest of all virtues; the godliest of all emotions, attitudes, and behaviors.  Love is the foundation for all virtues in the preceding list.  It is the aim of humanity, the pinnacle of spirituality, the reality of Divinity.  God is Love.  Love gives and gives and gives; and when it seems impossible to give any more, Love sacrifices itself on behalf of the object of its adoration.  For those clothed in temporal flesh, love is dying to the will of self, and living for the benefit of another.     

I have to daily recognize that if I don’t purpose to choose and apply each of these traits to my spirit, just as I walk into my closet to select and put on clothes every morning, I will face the world as me.  Fleshly, worldly, sinful me.  The me that reflects none of Christ, none of the gospel, none of God’s image into this world in such aching need.

And that has me leaving the house as an uncovered, hopeless, aimless wanderer, who is just this side of nihilism.  Thus for my sake, as well as the sake of everyone with whom I come into contact, I promise to clothe myself daily with these traits, which are befitting a person of my station – a daughter of the King of Kings. 

 

A Love Story

Declaration 4:  The new creation that I am will not allow one day to pass without loving her husband well.  Thanking God for him; and with him, for their love. 

For sometimes, the heart lives outside the body.

What does love look like?  There are endless collections of books: secular and non, sermons, retreats, seminars, websites all dedicated to this very question.  [And no, I’m not going to touch headship, or submission, today.]  I’m seeking a picture of a love between husband and wife, one in which God delights.  Because I want my marriage to be a love story woven through with scripture, breathing the Spirit’s influence, hemmed in with Christ’s grace, and glorifying God.  But to which narrative in scripture do I turn?   Is the garden an ideal portrait?  Or do I find this in Song of Solomon?  Need I look for paper mentors in Priscilla and Aquila?  Abraham and Sarah?  The blessed parent and step, Mary and Joseph?  Ruth and Boaz?  Or the newly popular Ester and Xeres?

The trouble with each of these examples, no matter what your personal stance, is that each is a human relationship.  Therefore, each is flawed.  Flawed, like my marriage.  Because I’m a human and I fail every day.  And I’ll confess to you, dear one, that of late I’ve failed far more than my fair share.  Hence the declaration.  In the very recent past, I’ve exalted myself and my desires and my goals and my plans and my “needs” so that they have engulfed what love is meant to be.    

     

 Regardless of whether you’re a complimentarian or an egalitarian, we are all called to love one another well.  And the only formula I find in scripture for that love is sacrificial.  Treating your spouse as greater than you; placing their needs and well-being above your own.  Dying to myself so that I can give more of life to him.  Taming tongue and reigning in emotions; feeling them, yes, but not allowing them to rule in me.  Standing when he can no longer, fighting for him when there’s nothing left in him, and encouraging him in everything to which he is called.  Just as he has for me. 

In a perfect world, this goes both ways.  Sadly, ours is a fallen world.  We will wound one another.  We will fail each other.  We will give into our flesh and become selfish.  And we will abandon each other in a million little ways, both overt and with more subversive means. 

But for God. 

If I can keep asking God to give me the grace He was lavished upon me, that I might pour it out upon my beloved, He will provide it.  If I can keep begging for forgiveness for all the wounds I inflict, and trusting that my beloved will give it, freely, then I will experience it.  If I can recognize that his love is unique and different from my native tongue, but no less true and full, then I will know it.  If I can keep asking God for fresh eyes to see my loved as rejoiced-over, delighted-in, beloved child of the Almighty, God is faithful to give me exactly what I need.  

I can look across the table this very moment and see the face that for literal years I prayed to wake to.  I can reach out and touch the hand that I ached to hold in mine when he was so far away that all we had was a common star, set in the sky billions of years ago, by a God who knew we’d need to it to find one another someday.  I can sink deep into the eyes that have seen more of life and the world and its consuming darkness that I ever want to know.  And I can see why God chooses marriage as a picture of His love for His people.  For while God is perfect, even in our love for Him we fail.  And He must continue to forgive us, continue to love us through our selfishness, continue to see the best in us when we’re at our worst.  And continue to stay.  Right beside us through it all. 

Because love, both Holy and human, requires of us more than we think we have to give.  Yet in living this love, dying to ourselves and seeking the best for someone else, we become more than we ever thought we might. 

 

Just so we're clear...

(a type of worship)

Basilica

It is historically documented.  It is intellectual folly to deny that a first century, Palestinian Jew by the name of

     Jesus

was crucified by the Roman government.  There is no scholarly debate: Jesus was a man.  Fully, completely, no-way-around-it, human, male.  This man, worshiped over 2,000 years later, could not then, nor ever have been a woman.

As a man, Jesus was a Jew.  He was raised in an orthodox Jewish home.  He practiced the Jewish religion (yep, I said that Jesus was religious.  Which, in the anthropologistic and historical sense implies that he practiced his religion…, well, religiously).  He followed the Mosaic Law to the letter.  Not one iota was ignored, not one minutia disobeyed.  His lineage was carefully documented to prove that he was the answer to eons of prophecy.  He was educated in the Hebraic traditions and scriptures; and he observed all the festivals and Sabbaths as one who understood their true purpose.  He taught with authority and corrected the misunderstandings of the mortals he came to save.  Of the Israelite leaders, he expected much.  To those on the fringe or outside the faith, he offered a way in.         

Jesus hung out with sinners and outcasts; ate with them, walked with them, talked and laughed and wept with them.  He saved them; he forgave them; he loved them.

                HE WAS NOT ONE OF THEM.

Jesus was Divine.  Before the universe was formed, before humans drew breath, before time began and after time ends he will continue to be always and forever Divine.  One with the Father and Holy Spirit in perfect and complete communion. 

Jesus came to earth, while sinners were sinning, to rescue humans who didn’t know they needed saving.  He died in the stead of every sinner who ever was or ever will be.  But only,
     Only
if the sinner chooses to trade his or her wickedness for Jesus’ all-encompassing righteousness.  To trade their own, impending and eternal torment, for his atoning death on the cross.  This choice is always in the heart of the sinner.  Like a marriage proposal, anyone can accept or reject this love.  Unlike a proposal, this love is offered every moment of every life.  Until the moment when life is over.  Or until that soul grows so hard from scratching out a life in the wilderness of death and constant pain, that Jesus [whom I picture weeping bitterly, as he did over Jerusalem just prior to his crucifixion] says to that sinner, “your will be done.” 

To be completely clear, Jesus was everything the Holy Scriptures say he was.  Jesus, the Promised Savior, the Only Son of the Almighty God, will never be a sinner.  He came to save sinners.  He died to redeem sinners.  He lives to give Love to sinners.  If we would but accept it.    

He was, in a specific and tangible and documented portion of linear time, God housed in flesh.  He was Eternity in temporal form.  He is the Healer of the broken, Redeemer of the damned.  He is the One who loves each sinner so much that He would trade his life, his oneness with the Eternal Almighty LOVE Itself, for the sake of that one sinner to be welcomed into His Father’s house. 

But He is not to be made in our image.  He is not a domesticated kitten, upon whom we may assert our ideals or morals or compunctions.  Our culture does not dictate, any more than the ancient Hebraic or Hellenistic cultures which comprised his earthly context, his will.  Jesus’ will was always that of the Father.  And the Father’s will does not deviate from scripture.  Regardless of what our favorite authors may tell us.  Or how we feel, as one-third-world dwellers.

Jesus the Christ is the Lion of Judah, who will return not as prophet or pacifist, but as King of Kings and Lord of Lords.  Robes dipped in blood; Warrior for His Father’s kingdom, who will reclaim all that evil has stolen.   And He will win.

For LOVE, true and honest and just LOVE, wins. 

     For His glory and Kingdom and Power are forever.

Amen.

 

 

Please leave a comment below if you have any questions regarding this theology. 

 I am happy to supply scripture references (as well as secular and scholarly). 

John Mark McMillan's "Death In His Grave"

 

 

Enjoying this study?  Here's a link to other articles in this series: The Women Who Knew Jesus

Made for walking

Since God chose you to be the holy people he loves, you must clothe yourselves with tenderhearted mercy, kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience. Make allowance for each other’s faults, and forgive anyone who offends you. Remember, the Lord forgave you, so you must forgive others. Above all, clothe yourselves with love, which binds us all together in perfect harmony. And let the peace that comes from Christ rule in your hearts. For as members of one body you are called to live in peace. And always be thankful.

~ Colossians 3:12-15

Yes, I know what you’re thinking:  Jen is blogging about shoes?  Jen? I’ll be the first to admit that I wouldn’t know a pair of Manolo Blahnik’s if they hit me in the head [I had to google the brand, to be sure I had it correct.  Side note: $1,500 for shoes?!  Are you kidding me?].  In actuality, this installment is more about choice than footwear.  About growing up, putting on our big girl shoes, and walking out our faith.

After reading Colossians 3: 12-15, let me ask you: how quickly do you forgive?  How patient are you?  How humble?  Frankly, how evident are the fruits of the Spirit in your life?  (Oh don’t worry, I’ve been asking myself these very questions of late; and the answers weren’t what I was hoping.)  For a moment, let’s just agree that none of us posses these qualities to their fullest.  So how do we go about getting them?  In truth, this process is a journey, very like a mountain climb, with the love of our life waiting patiently at the top.

First, we have to recognize that we can not attain these on our own.  Only the Holy Spirit can bring this fruit into our lives.  Once we are indwelt (through belief in and a life surrendered to Jesus Christ), we receive the fullness of the power of the Holy Spirit; in that, we are able to be completely transformed and therefore exhibit these qualities.  Secondly, we have to draw closer to Christ; through prayer, reading Scripture, and worship.  And the closer we come to Him, the more we yearn for Him.  In gaining intimacy with Jesus, He calls us to finally surrender everything to Him.  Our desires, our pasts, our emotions…everything.

We each are being called to deeper intimacy with the Lover of our Souls.  And we each are faced with choices:

1. To heed this call and head up the mountain or stay exactly where we are – distant from Christ and His amazing love
2. How to make the journey

Assuming that we choose to embark upon the climb up the mountain, we have to decide how to clothe ourselves for this trek.  We can select worldly garments; emotions or behaviors that look like the rest of the world.  We can opt for comfortable clothes; mannerisms that are familiar, well-practiced.  Or we can choose attire that reflects our journey; sensible actions, though seemingly out of place, that help our climb, ferry us closer to our destination.

We have to recognize our choice in this process.  We are not called to feel humble, forgiven, or loving.  We are told to clothe ourselves with these attributes.  To purposefully select and then put on these behaviors.  Like going into our closet everyday, we don’t feel shoes on our feet.  We choose what to put on.  And we have to keep our mountain climb in mind when selecting our footwear.



Looking like the world:  These shoes make me feel good.  No, they aren’t comfortable and yes, they hurt my feet.  But, they make me feel like I look good.  They’re my “I want people to think I’m put together” shoes.  My “notice me” shoes.

Pride.  Anger.  Bitterness.  These are emotions the world expects, and to an extent admires when we wear them.  When wronged, it makes sense to seek vengeance, to exult our selfish agendas over other’s needs.  To put ourselves first.

But these are utterly ridiculous for climbing a mountain. Wearing them guarantees a fall, and a potentially debilitating injury.  I will be sitting on the side of the trail, not making any progress towards to the top, nursing wounds brought on by wearing these foolish shoes on a serious hike.

These emotions do more harm to me than not.  They may look good, in the world’s eyes; but they are slowly crippling me.



Comfortable shoes: These shoes reflect familiar patterns.  The ones we’ve been practicing for years.  Our behavioral habits that say, “I’m comfortable here.”  Doubt.  Insecurity.  Striving.  I know these; they’re well-worn, molded to my foot after years of wear.  At the end of the day, it’s so much easier to put these on.  When I’m tired, when I let my guard down.  When I am weak.  I turn to these out of habit.  They certainly don’t compliment any outfit I own.  I look silly wearing them in public.

And again, they are ridiculous for climbing a mountain.  Wearing these, every little rock or thorn will pierce my skin through the soles.  They will gather and hold brambles.  I could, possibly make it to the top of the mountain wearing these.  But it will take far too long.  I will be in constant pain; and I will despise the journey.  Most likely I won’t make it far.  I will be forced, by injury (whether minor or more serious) to abandon my climb.  To be stagnant.  And lonely.



Hiking boots: They really don’t go with much; they don’t attract attention of people around me.  I don’t put them on at the end of the day seeking comfort.  But in heading up the mountain, these are the shoes that will protect me from rocks, from hurting my ankles. They will give me traction and help speed me along my climb.  I won’t arrive at the top with blisters, or thorns hanging off the sides.  In these, I will see the vista promised me.

Forgiveness.  Love.  Humility.  Certainly not behaviors the world admires.  Each takes work; they aren’t as easy or familiar as our current habits.  And yet, choosing to clothe ourselves with these will bring us into a more intimate relationship with our Lord.

It’s our choice.  We must clothe ourselves appropriately.