As I sit, bathing in the murky light of the morning I'm reminded of beauty and sacrifice. Our Saviors sacrifice on our behalf; the blood that has broken my chains. His blood spilled freely that has made me new. This week I've received snippets and glimmers of people's lives; their hopes and heartbreaks pierce my heart, and provide me joy.
And amidst all of it, my heart caves with the realization of how feint my compassion and care is. How little my heart breaks. How easy it is to push aside the lonely, the bereaved the lost.
The Lord promises to give us a new heart, but how often do I allow my hard hardheartedness to rule, and push aside the tender heart the Lord has placed within me? How often do we close our eyes to the heartache we see in the world around us?
Jesus loved us enough to die on our behalf.
This idea is foreign in a culture removed from true bloodshed and violence. We see it, but we are never touched (normally) by its agony, ripped apart by its consequence.
We caused his death, we are the consequence from which his blood flowed. We put our creator, our Savior our life giver to death. We did that. As individuals and as an entire race.
That was us right alongside them. Our sinful, petty, selfish, destructive selves. Our inheritance outside of Jesus.
Jesus had compassion enough to come after me, to save me, to bridge the gap. Oh how my heart aches for how little I care in return. How fickle my heart, in it's sinfulness, is.
But, the Lord isn't finished with me yet. With any of us. His is, presently, sanctifying us from all the petty pride, the sinful lust, the wicked jealousy. Every wrong thought, every sin I've ever committed, will commit or even the things that only flutter like cords of wafer thin blackness, through my mind.
He loves us. Not because of any love we have, but because he is love. We are known and heard and thought of. So when you (and I) are discouraged by our hardheartedness and the sin that we still commit remember: He has, is and will sanctify us. God is love, and he loves and knows us better than we could ever love or know ourselves.
So take heart, and be encouraged. Rest in the shadow of our great father's wings. If he rescued Rehab from Jericho and all the horror, sinfulness and brokenness of her past, and parted the Red sea, he can rescue you from whatever sin you still wrestle with, whatever downheartedness you're filled with when you glimpse in the mirror your (our) humanity.