Grief Over Sin

I am grieved. There has been a lot to grieve about recently, but more than anything, I am deeply grieved by the condition of my own heart. If you really look at everything going on in the world, you might fool yourself into thinking that, in comparison, you aren’t as bad as you think. That politicians, influencers on social media, and even murderers need a lot more work in their heart than you do. I have definitely felt that way this past week. Wishing that everyone else had my deep, complex and nuanced thoughts (LOL), and maybe the world wouldn’t be so crazy. Maybe it would be better. And just when I think I have everything figured out, I get so humbled. Did I actually believe that my heart was better than anyone else’s? Why did I ever think that my heart would naturally bend to what is good? Why did I ever believe that I was different from the woman who saw that the tree was good for food and delightful to look at? Because when I look at the tree, why do God’s commands feel so confining? Why does my heart not trust the Lord? Why did I believe the lie? I am grieved.

But God. He looks for me. As I hid up in a tree, full of shame, He asks, “where are you?” The question I am still trying to answer. The question I wrestle with daily. Because as much as I grieve over my sin, He is grieved even more. With tears in His eyes, He knew what my sin meant. There is now distance between us. I am far from Him–when all He ever wanted was to be close. I now sit naked and full of shame. He sacrifices an animal to clothe me, because no sin can be covered without the shed of blood. I exit His presence, and as I walk away from everything that I lost, all I feel is regret. But as the tears fall, I look up and see a man, just like me. It’s Him. My best friend, the one who I used to walk and talk with. With holes in His hands and feet, I am met with grace. I cannot help but fall down at his feet and apologize for everything. “God, I promise I’ll never do it again.” He knows that isn’t true, but still assures me that He will be with me now–and that one day, I really won’t ever do it again. Finally, my regret turned into hope. In death and life, He abides with me. For now, I am given a task: to tell everyone the good news of this promise. This promise that is for me, for you, for your children, and for all who are far off, as many as the Lord our God will call.