repentance

i have the habit of writing somewhere on my skin whatever concept is really striking me. normally it's just a word or two written on my forearm or palm, but occasionally i write a phrase... or a paragraph... on my leg. i know it's weird, but it's a tool i use for reflection that allows me to tangibly connect the stirrings of my heart to reality. for me it's like turning a nebulous cloud of deeper yearnings and God-spoken truths into an almost comically simple but personally poignant synopsis.

currently the word on my palm is "forgiven" written in bold, capital letters.

i was a fool the other day - a willfully blind, irresponsible, self-centered fool. it galvanizes me to think of how often this is an accurate description of me, especially because my first reaction is to make excuses to explain it away. my favorite is, "but i was trying to appear open and nonjudgmental to show  ______ the love of God." so for the sake of "God's love" i end up making compromise after compromise thinking that i can walk that fine line and pull ______ up into the arms of God with my own rippling spiritual biceps without falling prey to sin or lies. OR the less noble reasoning is that i, out of my desire for reputation, want people to think "better" of me and differentiate me from the rest of those horrid, insensitive, judgmental, bible-thumping Christians.

heart. pierced. bleeding. gaaah.

oh conviction. sigh.

it's this conviction that, piercing through me, sets me in deep realization of how desperately, desperately i need my Father, and suddenly then i was overwhelmed and groaning for Him to see me, love me, and wipe clean the consequences of my rebellion. my very heart moaned, and i started to understand again what it means to be repentant.

funny the understanding of so many things hinges on the premise that God is God and i am not, thus i should resign all attempts of personal godhood in my life.

specific example: repentance does not mean that nicolle pummels herself with guilt and anxiety for either

a. turning away from her God or

b. failing to have remorse for turning away for her God. 

rather, if i am able to trust and allow God to be who He is as judge, i have the confidence and the freedom to know that as His beloved, the lies of sin have no hold on me. i am not judge. i cannot make myself right again. this means that i don't have to listen to those thoughts that plague me with guilt and push me into self-punishment, but neither am i able to stand in blank apathy when it's clear that i have brashly decided to follow my own way instead of His.

freedom comes when i say to my Father, "You are judge. You see me as i am and know the fullest extent of my heart, both good and bad. You love me and You sent your Spirit as convictor and guide, so i don't have to step up and force-feed myself self-judging, guilt-ridden, beat-your-face-in, 'repentance.'"

true repentance is an aching, broken spirit and a contrite heart, but these are not self-produced.

sigh.

this is good.

and as always the goodness of God comes in pairs at bare minimum, for if God-given conviction is a mercy as a spiritually built-in warning system to show when we are diving into self-destruction and away from what we truly yearn for, than the state of being forgiven is the truest grace. if mercy is not handing out what is rightfully our consequence, then grace is having received what we don't deserve.

is this not love? my God, You are love.