Into the Fire

I know that I am a sinner by nature. I know I am washed by the Blood of the Lamb for my sins as a result of confessing them to God and asking Jesus to be my Savior and Lord. I know the glory of the transformation, the humility of being desperate for God every day.

But sometimes the significance of the failure in my life both before and after Christ shatters me. The past sins, of which there are multitudes, are under the Blood, and I need not ever bring them up to the Lord because God has mercifully separated them from me and Him as far as the east is from the west. The gratitude is inexpressible in its gravity.

We do reap what we sow. What goes around comes around. It is a serious and saddening thing to disobey the Lord. Why do we do it? Other than the obvious facts of being selfish, self-serving, arrogant enough to think we’re “right” in our choice(s), rationalizations, justifications, joined with the devil’s whispered or shouted encouragements and come-ons? I’ve succumbed to them all.

Repentance is the key to restoration, but the nagging residual sorrow and disappointment from the failure to do the right thing is often challenging to overcome. The “Peter” feeling . . . It’s grim.

When we share the gospel with someone, we are giving them the greatest opportunity they will ever be offered to make a right decision—one that will have eternal implications. The invitation to be introduced to the Savior of the World, to begin a friendship with the Friend who sticks closer than a brother, to be forgiven by the God who offered His beloved Son so we could share in the glories of heaven instead of the torments of hell—what in this lifetime is more vital, more crucial, more significant than the salvation of a lost soul given over to Jesus Christ?

As a writer, I am compelled to share Truth. The only real Truth in this life is Jesus Christ. Dress it up or dress it down, but Truth is Truth delivered on a Cross for our deliverance. And sin is sin, common to all. Indefensible, separating us from the One who made us. We are flawed, bleak and evil left to ourselves—no matter how we’re packaged. All the positive thinking and speaking in the world will not rescue us from our eternal doom. We cannot hide it and we cannot hide from it. It’s inevitable. Failure is guaranteed without Jesus leading our way to heaven, once we’re yielded to Him and His desires for our lives.

That’s why it’s painful to fail in any capacity but moreso to fail the Lord because Jesus gave everything for the salvaging of a sinful people who still to this day ignore, desecrate, deny, and impugn Him, His character, His reality, His truth. He gave it all. The willingness to feel our pain, to endure the temptations of the devil, to feel the horror of cruel crucifixion to free the ones who hate Him for no other reason than they don’t want to believe in anyone outside of themselves and admit to their own iniquitous failures.

I have failed, and I know it, and it makes me grieve. At least I know, and I thank God for the privilege of that knowledge. Left to my own ways, I’d still be lost in sin and everpresent failure(s).

Father, your mercy is so vast, unexplainable. How can love be so enduring? You don’t hold back. You hold out your arms. You welcome the lost, the hurting, all kinds. You don’t reject anyone who comes to you in true repentance. Thank you for loving me in spite of my many failures. I wonder at your amazing grace daily. Thank you. In the Name of your Son Jesus Christ, Amen.