Repentance

I’ve repented a lot lately.

I know. I’m supposed to repent a lot, but, somehow, repenting gets lost in all that selfish struggling to make dinner and play Farmville and generally look perfect to the casual observer.

Yeah, that’s sarcasm. I should probably repent of that, too.

Seriously, as this year has gone from panic attacks to personal tragedy to seeking divine intervention, repentance moved up to the top of my “things to do” list.

Funny thing, repentance. Once you start cleaning spiritual house, you find all kinds of matters needing attention. 

Quite recently, I repented of my attitude about God. My extreme fear indicated not only a distrust of the Savior I claim to serve but a serious insult to His divinity, as well. How can I claim to trust in the Creator of the universe yet be ruled by fear? Perfect love casts out fear.

My love for God, obviously, was less than perfect. I repented and asked forgiveness for doubting Him. I asked forgiveness for insulting Him. I asked forgiveness for my lack of faith. It continued. I won’t go into TMI territory, but once I started asking, God started bringing things to mind. I gave those things back to Him, too. More things followed. The beauty of asking forgiveness from God is receiving it.

I’m not perfect. I’m not even going to say I’ve got it all figured out. I don’t. I don’t know what I’ll do when the next big crisis hits. Will I exercise my faith-muscles or will the old fear-reaction kick in and require more repentance?

It doesn’t matter, really. God remains faithful no matter what I do.

I tend to come at God from the judgement side. I know He’s perfect and just and holy. I’ve read Genesis to Revelation, and I see the wrath of God. I think of Jesus of the Second Coming, He Who will judge the living and the dead, Who will separate the sheep from the goats, Who will read from the Lamb’s Book of Life and condemn those whose names are not written therein. That is the God I serve, and He’s frightened me more than once because I see myself as so small and sinful and unworthy of His attention, let alone His mercy. That’s the truth I know. That’s the truth I’ve trusted.

This year, God is teaching me about His love and its close companion, mercy. He spared one family and a bunch of animals when He could have destroyed everything. He picked one guy to provide a way of escape for those who would believe (He did that quite a few times, actually). He took my punishment on Himself, not because He’s showing me what will happen to me, but because He didn’t want me to have to experience it. He Took My Place. This year, I’m starting to understand what that means.

I know for some of you, this sounds extremely weird. For whatever reason, you only see the loving part of God. Oh, I would envy you if that weren’t a sin. You don’t understand why I have trouble accepting that part of Him. That’s OK. I don’t need you to understand. I just need God to have mercy on me. And He does.

I’m so grateful His love manifests in mercy. I’m so glad that in His mercy, He’s teaching me about His love. For all you judgmental types like me out there, start with repentance. Mercy will follow.

PS. For those who might be interested, Mom says I’m very happy with my new job. I don’t have enough data accumulated to formulate a judgement at the moment, but she’s probably right. I’ll go with her assessment until I decide otherwise. Thank you for your prayers.