My Sin Is Ever Before Me

Sometimes my sin overwhelms me. As King David lamented, "My sin is ever before me!" so I lament over my sin. As the Apostle Paul, cried out in frustration "The things I don't want to do I keep on doing and the things I want to do, these I don't do..." so I cry out.

Sometimes my sin is like a sleeping dragon. I tiptoe around it, manage it, assuage it and it seems to stay under control. I smell it's stench, but if I hold my breath...

Sometimes my sin is like a stalker, peeping in my windows and pursuing me relentlessly, turning all my vegetable cans the same direction to freak me out. (that's a Sleeping with the Enemy reference, btw)

Sometimes my sin takes the form of a beautiful, helpful, shiny new toy. It will fix things. It will help me. It will be my precious.

Sometimes it's like a dead body tied to my back. Think on that image presented at the end of Romans 7 for a second. The older, "more holy" I become, the more real that dead body becomes to me.

Sometimes my sin is like a freaking ninja that whips out a dagger and a samurai sword and fights me until I'm bone-tired and frustrated. And so I cry out.

I cry out, "Who will rescue me from this body of death?!?!?" I am sickened by my sin. By my lack of faith. By the nagging sense of hopelessness. By my frustration with myself for not being God. I am sickened and exhausted by my fear and my desire for my idols.

I used to despise the Israelites for their weakness. How could they see the fire by night and the smoke by day and still doubt? How, oh HOW, could they look to the top of the mountain, see the lightning, hear the thunder, feel the earthquakes and build a golden calf? How could they be so stupid? So blind? So... like me?

The closer I get to God, the more unmanagable I realize He is. His holiness bewilders me and my flesh cries out for something easier. Something more comfortable, more on my level. I do stupid things that accomplish nothing except to take my eyes of God. He overwhelms me and terrifies me and I forget...

"Do not be afraid."

"I will be their God and they will be my people."

"Fear not, O Zion; let not your hands grow weak. The Lord your God is in your midst, a mighty one who will save; he will rejoice over you with gladness; he will quiet you by his love; he will exult over you with loud singing."

"I am yours; save me."

Sometimes repentance is hard and grace feels cheap. Sometimes it feels like to repent AGAIN is to cheapen the Cross, when in reality, it proves the vastness of Christ's provision. How can He forgive me again?

How? Because He is beautiful
...and merciful
...and gracious
...and faithful
...and forgiving
...and loving
...and good

He is God and He is mine and I am His.

Then, finally, I cry out for fogiveness and mercy. I throw myself in His lap and weep.

And I find relief and rescue.