Responding to Our Sin

JULIANNE ATKINSON |GUEST My favorite writer in the Bible is the Apostle Paul. If Paul was a murderer and God STILL used him on the scale he did, he can use me despite my sins and failures. If Paul wrestled deeply in sin struggles and God STILL loved him, he can love me too. And after all of that, if Paul can fervently love Jesus with his mind and heart, pointing to him in what he says and does, I want to do that too. We see Paul’s heart in the book of Romans. I find chapters 7 and 8 especially encouraging where Paul writes about struggling with his sin. He describes how he does what he doesn’t want to do and doesn’t do what he wants to do (Rom. 7:15-20). We tend to idealize biblical characters, but Paul opens up about the fact that he has to literally wage war with his own sin, citing covetousness as an example earlier in the chapter. Our sin can be intimidating when the scales fall off and we see the true depths of our depravity. We often respond in several different ways to the reality of our sin. The large-scale analogy that I like to think of to compare it to is what happened at Chernobyl. Before the current tragic war, I was blessed to go to Ukraine a couple of times and teach English. One year, many Ukrainians told me about the HBO series on Chernobyl and said they loved it so I decided to watch it for myself. They were right. It is fantastic and I recommend it. Using this analogy, I want to describe three ways we might respond to our sin. Enter into the Struggle If there’s one thing that characterizes this series, it’s being told the right thing to do, and choosing the wrong thing to do, over and over, to the devastation of many lives. Sin can be like a nuclear explosion. It’s ugly, messy, and it contaminates everything in its vicinity. At Chernobyl, the nuclear core mysteriously explodes, and we see people respond just the way we do when we see our sin. First, we have the nuclear physicists. They’re the heroes. They acknowledge the problem and enter into the struggle, just as Paul does with his sin in the book of Romans. They’re informed; they know something happened and that it was catastrophic. They know the right thing to do and that it’s embarrassing; it requires some serious sacrifice, lots of work, and if they don’t act immediately and engage with the issue it will get much, much worse. “For if you live according to the flesh you will die, but if by the Spirit you put to death the deeds of the body, you will live” (Rom. 8:13). Cover it Up...

Responding to Our Sin2024-02-17T18:05:04+00:00

A Better Love Song: Suffering and God’s Great Love for Us

BARBARANNE KELLY | CONTRIBUTOR “He loves me. . . he loves me not. He loves me. . . he loves me not” Did you ever play this childhood game? Plucking the petals from a daisy to determine the feelings of a childish sweetheart, the outcome dependent upon whether the flower had an even or odd number of petals. Silly, right? What does the number of petals on any given flower have to do with the intentions of the heart? And yet, is this the narrative that plays in your mind when suffering comes? Do you pluck from the circumstances sent by our heavenly Father to determine whether he loves you? Some circumstances feel loving, others don’t. When he makes you lie down in green pastures and leads you beside still waters (Ps. 23:2), do you sing, “he loves me!”? When he calls you to walk through the valley of the shadow of death (Ps. 23:4), does your heart whisper, “he loves me not”? Suffering forces us to face what we truly believe. Do we believe that God loves us and that he is working all things—even hard things—for our good? When trials come—and they will: disaster, disease, depression, death—which narrative will be our default? When faced with pain, what is the first thought, and then the next, and the next, that enters our minds?

A Better Love Song: Suffering and God’s Great Love for Us2023-03-24T18:07:35+00:00

Romans 8 and Our Hope in Glory

I am enjoying the first signs of spring in North Carolina. Flowers are beginning to bloom; the bare tree branches are beautifully clothed with green leaves. The grass is starting to grow. The sky is brilliant blue. And the sun shines brightly. But as I view all this beauty, I continue to experience chronic pain that has been my companion for over fourteen years now. This suffering within me reminds me that the beauty I see around me is far inferior to what will be revealed in the new heaven and the new earth. The most glorious spring day is only a glimpse and a taste of the beauty that is to come. And when that beauty comes, there will be no more pain. We will behold the face of our beloved Savior and live with Him for all eternity, free of sin and suffering. Romans 8 and Suffering In the meantime, the Scriptures do not tell us that we might suffer; they tell us that we will suffer. Thankfully, suffering for the believer is always filled with purpose. The Scriptures put suffering in the light of eternity. We must do the same. The apostle Paul tells us that the sufferings of this present time will not even compare with the glory that is to be revealed in us when Christ comes again (Rom. 8:18). In our suffering then, we need to fix our eyes on the future glory that awaits us and persevere as God preserves us. Eager Anticipation of Glory        Paul teaches us in Romans 8 that both creation and those who have the firstfruits of the Spirit (believers) are suffering. But we suffer knowing the Holy Spirit secures every stage of salvation. This life is not the end. Glory awaits us! Those who have been justified will be glorified. Because we possess the Spirit as believers, we groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for adoption as daughters. We have already been adopted (v. 15), but there is a “not yet” aspect to this adoption—the redemption of our bodies. It is this for which we hope with patience...

Romans 8 and Our Hope in Glory2022-05-05T00:54:26+00:00

I’m a Mess-terpiece

That was my conclusion the other day when I mentally reviewed footage of my most moronic moments. Once I was hosting a meal after a funeral, and in trying to light candles, I set the tablecloth on fire. Another time I was having a wonderful conversation in our living room with an honored guest, until the pet chinchilla got out, and the dog got in. One of us did not survive the chaos. I was going to bring punch to your anniversary party, but I took the wrong highway exit and got there 45 minutes late. Here’s that book I borrowed—it was as thrilling as you had said! But I did have a tiny incident with the grape jelly while I was reading it. Youth group is arriving to meet at our house, and so are the plumber and the electrician…. Time does not permit to tell of my doomed drive to the next county to deliver an important document (it never got there), or of why I nearly threw up on a nun in an airplane. No, nor of how I closed a conversation with someone I wanted to impress by saying, “Thank you please!”  And there was the time—I’m sorry, times— when I fell down in front of a hundred people.The only suave thing about me is that I don’t blush, though my self-esteem is curdling like the carton of milk I left in the trunk of the car. Why don’t I just hide under the covers to avoid doing some real damage? Sometimes that has seemed a good option. I’ve always found it hard to feel forgiveness for doing something stupid that is not a sin. Oh, wretched woman that I am, who will rescue me from this body of sin and death and fender benders and lost house keys? How can I repent of stupidity? I can take my sins to the foot of the cross, but I can only shudder when I remember how things ended after letting my nephew try to walk in his new leg cast. Is there grace for innocent blunders? If so, why do they cause me to sit up in bed at 2 AM and clap my hand to my forehead, whereas my memories of being angry or feeling lust allow me to sleep like a baby?

I’m a Mess-terpiece2022-05-07T23:08:18+00:00
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