When I started a blog primarily directed towards single Christian women, I expected backlash. That's the thing about taking up a cause for your faith - it's like placing a target on your back and saying "Ok Satan, come get me!" And what do you know, after the first few posts, some things I'd successfully forgotten came to light again. After some serious conversations with people who read this blog, guilt started pounding me like a freight train. I've said before that Satan knows your weaknesses girlfriend and he will use them against you.
For the last couple of weeks, his weapons have been working.
For the last couple of weeks, I haven't felt qualified to post anything.
For the last couple of weeks, Satan's had me convinced
I have nothing to say
I have no authority
I have no room to talk about these things.
I want to write about faith,
He tells me that mine is weak, unstable and conditional.
I want to write about purity and forgiveness,
He tells me that my past makes me unqualified.
I want to write about self-confidence and identity,
He tells me that my value lies in others' opinions.
In the great words of my beautiful mama: WHY AM I SURPRISED BY THIS?!?!!
My purpose in sharing this is not to generate pity, but to issue a warning. If you're going to take a leap of faith, be prepared to encounter flying debris. What I'd like to do now is encourage everyone else in this position.
When the devil throws your sins in your face and declares that you deserve death and hell, tell him this: "I admit that I deserve death and hell, what of it? For I know One who suffered and made satisfaction on my behalf. His name is Jesus Christ, Son of God, and where He is there I shall be also! I didn't say it, Martin Luther did. And he said it really well, I think.
Acknowledging deep-rooted sin is new territory for me; I've been a bit of a coward for a few months now. But at some point last week, I recalled that I had a saving faith long before this problem started. I also realized that the God of the Universe knew it would be a problem long before I had a saving faith, and He still gave that faith to me anyway.
Romans 1:24 says God gave them over in the sinful desires of their hearts...
Hear me. If you have even an ounce of faith left in the midst of your addiction to sin, it is because God gave it to you. He was planning to give it to you even before you got your first high. He has not, will not, and has never ever planned to give you over to this thing.
Later in Romans, Paul says that If you live according to the sinful nature, you will die; but if by the Spirit you put to death the misdeeds of the body, you will live, because those who are led by the Spirit of God are sons of God. For you did not receive a spirit that makes you a slave again to fear, but you received the Spirit of Sonship. And by him we cry 'Abba, Father'. The Spirit himself testifies with our spirit that we are God's children.
Hear me once more. If you have even an ounce of faith left in the midst of this, it is because God gave you Sonship even before you got your first high. And Sonship doesn't go away, friends. It's a guarantee. He WILL see you through this. You might be pretty battered on the other side, but you will be His and He is very good at putting back together broken pieces.
Let me wrap this up with a quick story. This morning in church, we were singing about our longing for Jesus, our need for Him and our desire to see His face and my attention was drawn to an older Hispanic man sitting alone in front of me. He was very inconspicuous in his jeans and dirty t-shirt but he stood out in a roomful of pastey white college kids. Just looking at him, yup the back of his head, tears filled my eyes instantly. I've only been slammed by the freight train of compassion once before, but it hurt a lot more this time. My chest was tight, I couldn't even hear the words being sung and every fiber in my body told me I had to talk to him.
God, what do I say? It was like the words were written across the inside of my eyes, they were so clear. Tell him I LOVE HIM. Tell him I long for him, I need him, and my strongest desire is to see his heart. This song isn't about your love for me, it's about My love for HIM. He is my first love.
So....I did. Somewhere between the offering and the start of the sermon, I leaned forward and whispered in this old man's ear, "Sir, this has never happened to me before and I don't know you. But God wants you to know that this song isn't about Him, it's about you." He didn't turn around, didn't tell me his name, he just nodded, faced forward and listened. After sharing the message God had put on my heart, I awkwardly leaned back in my seat.
Only then did the man turn around.
Only then did I see a single tear tattoo under his right eye*.
"Pray for me." he said, then began to cry and turned away.
As much as I hate this sin in my life and hate myself for being consumed by it, I am beginning to consider this fight a blessing. I have a mission that I'm not afraid to fight for and there is literally nothing that can keep God from completing the good works He begins in the hearts of His children. So I'm going to keep writing, keep praying and keep returning to that place in the Throne Room where my face is on the ground. I'm going to cling to the truth that Peter knew very well: it is always better to be terrified, exhausted and drowning in the middle of the storm with Jesus than to be sitting comfortably in the boat without Him.
*For my friends unfamiliar with prison tattoos, this tattoo varies in meaning, but is most often associated with inmates who have committed murder.
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