This is going to be disjointed.

I believe that God’s grace is actually sufficient. For everyone. And everything. No matter how horrible, how unimaginably cruel, how disgusting. Sin is sin. I am no better than a rapist. I am no better than a murderer. I am no better than anyone else. I feel the full weight of that as I type it- the fact that I am not worth more than someone who would rape an innocent human being is horrifying to me. And yet it is true. My sins are no more acceptable than that.
And I do not think that it is alright for me to hate someone because their sin is more horrifying to me than my own sin. First of all, my own sin should disgust me- it is, after all, dirty and ugly and real- and I should fully realize that I am only free from it NOT BY OWN MERIT but by the grace of God.
I am not free from my sins because I had a good upbringing. It’s not because I go to church. It’s not because I vote right or help old ladies at the grocery store or am nice to people. It’s because Christ paid for my sins so that I don’t have to. Christ DIED for my sins so that I don’t have to.
And so, logically, if my sin is as ugly as ALL sin and nothing about ME frees me from that sin, I am no better than anyone else. And if I am no better than anyone else…then I can’t hate them.
Hate is ugly. It takes root in your heart and it hangs on tightly, growing into crevices like a weed. There is nothing honorable about hatred. If I hate someone for committing a murder, I AM SINNING. Their sin is still very real, and very horrible- but so is mine. Equally so.
I am not excusing what is wrong. Rape, murder- these are hideous, hideous acts that should continued to be punishable by law. I am not arguing with that. I am simply saying that I cannot hate someone for doing something like that. I can- and, I believe, should- hate what they did. I can hate that sin, and mourn the damage it has caused. But by no means does another persons sin give me license to hate that person.

Comments

Pause Before You Post: Representing yourself responsibly and honestly online

When I was about eleven years old I went to summer camp for the first time. Before my sister and I left, my mother talked to us about something. She explained that we needed to mindful of our behavior at camp, not only because it is important to be kind and respectful, but also because we would be a representation of both our family and Christ to the people around us. That stuck with me. Now, with so many of us daily browsing and posting to social media sites such as Facebook, Twitter, Tumblr, Instagram, and blogs such as this, our representation is no longer limited to the people we are around in person- it is far-reaching, even global at times. It is certainly a far more widespread representation of yourself to post on the internet than it is to say something in person; on the internet, the dozens or hundreds of people you are connected with may see it. That is an enormous audience. I feel very strongly that we need to be mindful of that audience, of that representation,

Just another 2am

Every once in a while there is a night when I am up far too late (ok, that part is pretty frequent) and something just hits me in the gut. It is usually something that saddens me deeply. It is usually something out in the world that I have no control over, something that is wrong, something that I wish I could right. Tonight it is no large thing. There is no catastrophic tragedy weighing on my heart tonight. It is just little things. Two little things hurt tonight, inconsequential though they may be. The first is a poor choice of words. Someone referred to Christ's sacrifice as empathetic- it may be unintentional, or an attempt to put a new spin on the way we perceive Jesus, but there is no need for a new spin. "Empathetic" hardly does my Savior's perfect sacrifice justice. Empathy is passion, emotion. But the Bible says Jesus went to the cross because He LOVED us, and the Bible describes love as a choice. The perfect God of the universe CHOOSING to LOVE us in our

Parenting Adventures: Already, I'm Wrong

I lay in bed five days ago, staring up at the dark shapes that the shadows made on the ceiling. It was the fourth night since Judah had been born, and I was realizing something: Already, I am wrong. Before our first child was born- this tiny blessing that we have had for just over a week now- I was certain of many things. I made plans. I confidently stated that our child would never co-sleep with my husband and I, because it was just too scary- and besides, we had a perfectly good cradle for him to sleep in instead. And yet now I found myself cuddled up beside the most precious human being I had ever seen, as he slept deeply (and safely) between Arthur and I in our bed. Before he was born, I said I’d never give Judah formula. And while I am sticking with breastfeeding, I cannot deny the fact that at 4am three days into motherhood I cried and wanted to give up. I have realized in these short nine days of Judah’s life that many of the things I was certain of before he was born

Sarah Anne I Am

Search This Blog