As the year winds down, I find myself growing increasingly reflective. I sit by the fire a little longer; flip through old photos a little more. I try to sum up the year via pithy, hashtag-able phrases like #imfreeof2023 and #thankGodwemadeit.
If my previous posts haven’t clued you in yet, it’s been a tough year. I feel like I’ve attacked the topic of “Coping with Adversity” from every angle my finite brain can concoct 500 words. But Christmas is only a couple of days away, and I would be remiss to not speak of “the reason for the season.”
He Was Enough Then
The wonder of Jesus’ birth over 2000 years ago is not just that the divine became earthly but that God Almighty became the least of all humans. To be frank, Jesus’ birth stunk—literally! Polished Christmas plays and immaculate live nativities have done a great injustice to the real noel. Without a doctor, nurse, or even a midwife, the Messiah splashed into a world filled with bleating animals and stinking feces. His first bed was a feeding trough where livestock had eaten, spat up, and reconsumed their last supper. His first visitors were dirty shepherds, who burst in on this already chaotic scene like garbagemen crashing a royal christening.
Jesus was born into the meagerest of circumstances (Luke 2:7), yet world leaders trembled at His arrival (Matthew 2:1-3). He was born at the worst of times (Luke 2:4-6) humanly speaking, yet He still arrived “at just the right time” (Romans 5:6) to save us from our sins. Before He’s recorded saying anything, Jesus had already dramatically altered the course of history. His mere presence changed everything.
He’s Enough Now
This is often how God chooses to operate today. With but a word, God can bring wars to a screeching halt (Psalm 46:8-10). He can still the tsunami outside of us with a mere whisper (Mark 4:39). But He’ll often walk with us through our storms rather than deliver us out of them. He will parachute down into our pain rather than airlift us out of it. He wants us to know that just as a little Jewish Baby was all that He needed to defeat the power of sin and death, His presence is all we need to make it through today.
Conclusion
As we celebrate Christmas and reflect on 2023, we’d do well to search for the telltale signs of God’s presence with us these past several months. Sickness may still linger in our bodies, our bank accounts may still be empty, and our relationships may look more ruptured than repaired. But God’s presence transforms every situation it enters, even if we can’t see it yet.
“Behold, the virgin will be with child and will give birth to a son, and they will call Him Immanuel” (which means, “God with us”)”
Benjamin Franklin famously claimed there are only two certainties in life—death and taxes. But I’d like to posit one more: setbacks. And put simply, setbacks suck. They suck the joy out of our day, the wind out of our sails, and the life out of our bodies. When our company lays us off or our girlfriend suggests we “take a break” or our long-awaited callback never comes, we can be driven to despair. With tears streaming down our faces, we may ask, “God, where are you?”
Death
My most recent setback made me think of the story of Lazarus. This man was one of Jesus’ closest friends when He walked here on this earth. But when his sisters, Mary and Martha, told Him “the one whom He loved was sick” (John 11:3), He waited, He lingered, and He delayed. By the time He arrived on the scene, the man was already dead.
Martha confronted Jesus and cried, “Lord, if You had been here, my brother would not have died.” In response, Jesus said, “Your brother will rise again.” And Martha replied, “I know that he will rise again in the resurrection at the last day” (John 11:21-24). In other words, “Eventually, You will make this right.”
God tells us that He is in control. He was at the beginning, and He knows the ending. And Romans 8:28 says that “all things work together for the good of those who love Him.” But often it can be all too tempting to hedge this promise with the word “eventually”.
Taxes
It’s kind of like when the IRS takes too much money out of our paycheck so they make it up to us in our tax return the following year. Similarly, some of us might believe God has written us an eternal IOU–to be paid after we die. Maybe after this life, in the sum balance of things, we will appreciate this point of pain. But at this moment, it feels like God has forgotten that we’re still among the living.
But Jesus challenged Martha to enter into an even deeper level of faith by telling her “I am the resurrection and the life” (John 11:25). Then He asked her to roll away the stone where Lazarus’s body was laid. In other words, He was asking her to have faith not just for the ending somewhere out there but also for the middle right here and now.
Life Beyond Setbacks
God is a God of detail. The Old Testament is full of chapter upon chapter detailing the minutia of God’s dwelling places here on earth, the garments of His earthly priests, and the hundreds of ceremonial laws God had in place for the Jewish people. And this detail extends to us. When Jesus said that “even the very hairs of our heads are all numbered,” (Matthew 10:30), He was not pointing out an OCD fixation of the godhead. He was demonstrating that God cares about the details even we tend to overlook.
The same applies to God’s plans for our lives. God told the prophet Jeremiah, “I know the plans I have for you, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, to give you a future and a hope” (Jeremiah 29:11). God knew about that bombed interview, accounted for that failed exam, and prepared for that missed flight long before we even existed. Our moments of misfortune cannot negate the unfailing promises God has in store for us, or else He’d cease to be God.
Remind, Rely, and Rejoice
So, what do we do in the midst of setbacks? We remind, rely, and rejoice.
First, we remind ourselves of God’s faithfulness in the past because we will forget. Our brains have a well-known tendency to deeply imprint negative experiences and neglect positive ones called negativity bias. Therefore, we must actively work to call to mind those moments in the past when God came through for us.
Secondly, we must rely on God to guide us past our setbacks. One of my favorite verses in all of Scripture comes from the book of 1 Kings. In the middle of a war between the Israelites and a fierce rival of theirs at that time called the Arameans, God said, “Because the Arameans think the Lord is a god of the hills and not of the valleys, I will deliver all this great army into your hand” (1 Kings 20:28). Sometimes we fall into this same fallacy. We claim God’s provision in our triumphs but we neglect His grace in our setbacks. God is with us both on the hills and in the valleys.
And lastly, but possibly most important of all, we must rejoice during our difficulties. The gospel singer Marvin Sapp has a song called “Praise Him in Advance” that begins with these words:
I’ve had my share of ups and downs,
Times when there was no one around,
God came and spoke these words to me,
Praise will confuse the enemy.
It confuses the enemy because most of us tend to base our happiness on our present circumstances. If times are good, we praise God, but when they’re bad, we doubt Him. But thanksgiving has the power to turn our focus from our problems and our pain to God’s power and God’s plan.
Conclusion
Setbacks may be inevitable but so is the Lord’s provision. The Word says, “The Lord directs the steps of the godly. He delights in every detail of their lives. Though they stumble, they will never fall, for the Lord holds them by the hand” (Psalm 37:23-24). Our heavenly Father gives us permission to admit we may not be quite perfect yet. We can confidently trip our way through life because He’s holding us up. He’s been holding our hand from the day we were born, and He will continue to do so until the day we die.
“The LORD himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged.” (Deuteronomy 31:8)
I just returned from a trip to New York City—the home of Miles Morales, the Cookie Monster, and some other, less important people. New York is a complicated city. I’d listen to the siren song of an undiscovered musician as I descended into a subway station. Then I’d choke on the rancid stench of piss as I ascended out of it. Someone once said that those who visit New York will either see “all that glimmers or all its garbage,” and I definitely experienced both ends of the bargain.
But I was most bewildered by the people. New Yorkers are a race in and of themselves. They are brash, confident, hip, and strange. From the men sporting sunglasses on the already cloudy days or the women wearing spaghetti straps and minis in the middle of the rain, I knew I stuck out with my millennial skinny jeans and pullover sweater.
Am I Hustling Enough?
I quickly learned that to be in New York is to be in a hurry. New Yorkers will push past you, scream at you, and literally climb over you to get to their destination on time. Some have defined the New York Second—the time between a light turning green and the taxi behind you honking—as “the shortest time in the multiverse.” And I became well acquainted with this phenomenon as blaring horns harassed me as I lay awake in my hotel room.
But my lying awake didn’t start here in New York. Ever since this year began, my schedule has taken a dramatic turn. Social outings, hangouts, and Sabbaths all took a backseat to studying, working, and hustling. Some of it seemed necessary at the time. A perfect storm of schoolwork and life circumstances coincided to squeeze the space out of my schedule. But it was only revealing a much deeper issue lurking in my heart.
I remember one late Thursday afternoon when I foolishly scrolled through my email right before taking a much-needed nap. When I discovered yet another rejected application, I lay restlessly in my bed for a few minutes before having to get back up. I didn’t want to return to the grind; I needed to. Because in the absence of external validation to confirm the value of my hard work, I needed the hard work itself to substitute in. I needed the bleary-eyed late nights and the bone-weary exhaustion and the harried, frenetic pace of my every day to distract my worried heart.
Am I Enough?
Too stressed out to sleep and too distracted to work, I went outside for a walk. On that strangely wet and cloudy Los Angeles day, I wondered to myself: Why am I doing all this?Do I hustle because I fear falling behind? Or do I fear not measuring up? Am I enough? And fighting my way through the crowded streets of New York City a few months later, these questions resurfaced all over again.
Conclusion
But there was one beautiful respite that redeemed my Big Apple breakdown. Standing on the top floor of a skyscraper, staring out on the harbor, I enjoyed a rare moment of stillness. A ferry carved a lazy arc through the water as the sun just began to peak out of the clouds. As its warm glow dispelled the gloom from that afternoon’s heavy rain, I knew in my heart that I’m not built to be a New Yorker.
I cannot hustle my way to happiness. I have to religiously carve out time for God, friends, and for myself. And even if the building I’m constructing grows at a slower pace than others’ high-rises, at least I’ll be laying down a sturdy foundation that just might survive the ups and downs—the earthquakes—I know I’ll experience out here in Los Angeles.
“Therefore everyone who hears these words of mine and puts them into practice is like a wise man who built his house on the rock. The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house; yet it did not fall, because it had its foundation on the rock.” (Matthew 7:24-25)
There once was a nation that dominated the world financially, militarily, and culturally. It was the heart of trade, the brain of technology, and the soul of deep spirituality. But within a couple decades, a revolt split the country in two. A few years later, it was conquered by another military juggernaut. Then a few short generations after that, it ceased to exist as a country at all. Who was this nation, you ask?
This nation was ancient Israel, an upstart people that overcame geopolitical turmoil to dominate the Ancient Near East for nearly a century.
The Purpose of Israel
From the time God led the Israelites out of Egypt, He had a specific calling for them. He commanded them, “‘If you obey me fully, then out of all the nations you will be My treasured possession. And although the whole earth is mine, you will be for Me a kingdom of priests and a holy nation’” (Exodus 19:5-6). God called His people to be His representatives here on earth. And by obeying His commands, they would both be blessed and be a blessing.
The Problem with Israel
But from the moment Israel stepped foot into the Promised Land, they were hellbent on turning their backs on God. From the sun and stars above (Acts 7:42) to the rocks and trees below (2 Kings 17:10), the Israelites worshiped everything in the universe except its Creator. And as they slid into idolatry, their morality unraveled.
Speaking on their great wickedness, the prophet Amos lamented on behalf of God, “They sell the innocent for silver, and the needy for a pair of sandals. They trample on the heads of the poor as on the dust of the ground and deny justice to the oppressed. Father and son use the same girl and so profane My holy name” (Amos 2:6-7).
Through their depravity, the ancient Israelites rejected their calling. Instead of being a blessing to the nations, they were a curse—a people so corrupt even the most depraved of nations could learn from their wicked ways.
The Purpose of the Church
Which brings us to the modern-day church. We are the Israelites! As the Apostle Peter said, “we are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s special possession, that you may declare the praises of Him who called you out of darkness into His marvelous light” (1 Peter 2:9)! Through the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, God extended His family to include not only those biologically descended from Abraham but also those who share in his same faith (Galatians 3:6).
And Jesus Christ commissioned us with a purpose: “Go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you” (Matthew 28:19-20). And chief among these commandments is loving God and loving others (Matthew 22:36-40).
From inventing hospitals to founding universities, the church has powerfully catalyzed positive social change for thousands of years.
The Problem with the Church
But the church’s history is also a checkered tale filled with tremendous stumbles and egregious moral lapses. Under the guise of spreading Christendom “to the heathen”, Britain and the rest of Europe rapaciously plundered Africa, America, and much of the rest of the known world. Looking a little closer to home, the church in America played an active role in prolonging slavery and segregation rather than ending them. And the rise of evangelical purity culture in the past couple decades has succeeded not in ending premarital sex but traumatizing a whole generation of young women. Just as ancient Israel ultimately failed to live up to the standard God set for it, so have we as the church today.
Conclusion
We can be all too easily tempted to delineate the line between the good and the evil as those inside the church versus those outside of it. But as the late Soviet dissident Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn once said, “the line separating good and evil passes not through states, nor between classes, nor between political parties either– but right through every human heart.”
Many Christians would be shocked to learn that the most moral person they know may not be their church’s head pastor but their irreligious boss. Or that their drinking, smoking, cursing coworker is a better husband than their clean-cut small group leader. Or that their gossipy neighbor is more righteous than they are.
But that’s the irony of grace. It’s not the reward we earn for being good people but the gift we humbly accept for being bad.
“For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God.”
“‘Go from your country, your people, and your father’s household to the land I will show you. I will make you into a great nation…I will make your name great…and all peoples on earth will be blessed through you’” (Genes 12:1-4). God made Abraham this promise when he was 75 years old. If I were an old man with no offspring and no land, I think I would have taken God up on His offer too. In a few years, I’d be dead, and by then I’d birth a nation, enter the Biblical Hall of Fame, and bless the world. But God failed to tell Abraham he’d wait twenty-five years for his son to be born (Genesis 21:5) and be homeless for the rest of his life (Hebrews 11:9). If only that had been included in the disclaimer before Abraham signed the rest of his life away.
And this wasn’t a one-off oversight either. God didn’t clue Joseph into the years of hardship that awaited him before his brothers finally bowed before him. God neglected to tell Moses that by abandoning his regal palace in Egypt, he’d wind up wandering in the wilderness for 40 years, twice! And David did not simply topple Goliath and ascend the throne. Two long decades in caves, backwater towns, and a foreign country awaited the shepherd boy before he finally claimed what was rightly his.
Viewing all these cases together, a disturbing pattern emerges of divine promises tempered by hellish realities. Could there be any reason for this painful dichotomy?
Divine Promises
Just like any good parent, God is intimately familiar with His children. He knows what makes us tick, what inspires us, and what worries us. If God told us (like He did Paul), “I will show him how much he must suffer for My name’s sake,” (Acts 9:16), He wouldn’t have to waste His breath showing any of us the exit.
Church planter Tom Bennardo describes God’s selective revelation like this: “The mental image God bestows graciously draws us into privileged participation in a journey we won’t regret when it’s done, but one that we might not have been willing to enter if we had known the entire plan in advance.” Marriage, children, college, and a host of other critical life choices brim with promise. Yet they’re simultaneously filled with tears. Tremendous highs and incredible lows are tandem twins in this life. But because of a psychological phenomenon known as loss aversion, we take losses much harder than we appreciate gains. This is one key reason why God is willing to show us the glory ahead of time, but He lets the difficulties surprise us.
Hellish Realities
Further, no matter how we choose to live our life, pain is all but guaranteed. We are resident aliens in a fallen world. So broken bones and shattered dreams shouldn’t surprise us here on planet earth. Yet they do! And as they accumulate, discouragement will rear its ugly head like the Grinch Who Stole Christmas. That is why God gives us promises.
“When God made His promise to Abraham, He wanted to make the unchanging nature of His purpose very clear so that we who have fled to take hold of the hope set before us may be greatly encouraged” (Hebrews 6:13, 17, 18). Promises give us something to hold on to as we wait. Every “also ran”, romantic breakup, and failed business venture is not the end of the line, but a link on the unbroken chain to the vision God has so firmly implanted on our hearts.
Conclusion
Christian Comedian Yvonne Orji wrote a book titled Bamboozled by Jesus: How God Tricked Me into the Life of My Dreams. And I agree with the tongue in cheek sentiment of her pithy work. Like a master of legerdemain, sometimes it feels like God shows us one thing but slips us something else. But every good and perfect gift comes from God (James 1:17). And this includes both the vision we see and the present we receive from His hand.
“’You parents—if your children ask for a loaf of bread, do you give them a stone instead? Or if they ask for a fish, do you give them a snake? Of course not! So if you sinful people know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your heavenly Father give good gifts to those who ask him.’”
America was built on the myth of self-made men and women. We’ve been conditioned to believe, “With unrelenting intensity and a can-do attitude, the best and brightest can move every mountain all on their own.” I’ve all too often fallen into this trap. But all too often bad timing, bad luck, and my bad habits remind me that I can’t always be the solution to my problems.
Grace is God-Based
In his best-selling book Outliers, Malcolm Gladwell argues that the truly exceptional “appear at first blush to lie outside ordinary experience…[but their success] is grounded in a web of advantages and inheritances, some deserved, some not.” In other words, our success will always be contingent on forces beyond our control. Even the Bible affirms this truth: “The fastest runner doesn’t always win the race, and the strongest warrior doesn’t always win the battle…And those who are educated don’t always lead successful lives. It is all decided by chance, by being in the right place at the right time” (Ecclesiastes 9:11).
The atheist accept this as randomness, and the spiritual call it destiny. But the believer knows this phenomenon as grace, for even “every roll of the dice is determined by the LORD” (Proverbs 16:33). Grace points to a force beyond our own two hands that ultimately determines the outcomes in our lives. It lifts the weight of responsibility off our shoulders and places it squarely on the LORD’s. This means it also shifts the weight of glory from our crown to His.
Conclusion
Pride and grace are like oil and water; they don’t mix. For God Himself says He “opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble” (James 4:6).
The oil of pride is complex. Crude oil is a mixture of hydrocarbons which has no easily written chemical formula. Similarly, pride requires all sorts of explanations to justify its existence.
But the water of grace is simple. Water has only two components: hydrogen and oxygen. Similarly, grace requires only two responses: gratitude and humility. And these two responses can be summed up in two words: Thank you.
“A man’s pride will bring him low, but a humble spirit will obtain honor.”
With all of the projects I’ve undertaken recently including creating a graphic novel, finishing my second science fiction novel, and launching a company, I’ve decided to transition my blog from a weekly post to a monthly post.
Having written a post a weekly for nearly three years almost without fail, I didn’t find this decision easy to make. I still have so much I’d like to share as this journey unfolds, but I’m hoping this transition will help pave the way for some exciting announcements in the future.
Thank you all for following along, and see you again later this month!
You know that feeling when you’ve been working toward something for months? You’ve been trusting, fasting, praying for it to come through. But that hopeful interview turns into a hopeless disappointment. You “shot your shot,” and you missed.
I’ve nearly drowned in that feeling this past week, a toxic blend of disappointment, bewilderment, and a dash of self-pity. If “all things truly work out for the good of those who love God” (Romans 8:28), what good can be found in yet another setback?
Perseverance
First, it develops perseverance. Two years ago, I shared a little bit about my writing journey. Striving to become a professional writer has been one of the greatest challenges of my life. Much to my father’s chagrin, the only documents I have framed on my wall are not from any of my graduations but from my first publications. But that is because of the power of perseverance. When year after year you receive rejection after rejection, you can either grow bitter or get better.
The Word says, “Let us not grow weary of well doing, for in due season we will reap a harvest, if we do not give up” (Galatians 6:9). From Oprah Winfrey to Winston Churchill to Michael Jordan, many of the giants of this past century did not cruise through life on easy mode. But rather, their hard work, determination, and “never-give-up” attitudes led to the acclaim they’ve now rightly earned.
Humility
Secondly, it inculcates humility. Joseph in the Bible has one of the greatest “riches to rags back to riches again” stories of all time. He began his life as a pampered trust fund baby who dreamed that he’d someday rule over the rest of his family. And he had to make sure they all knew it too!
But that “wise” decision led to thirteen years of slavery and imprisonment. The end of Joseph’s time in prison was punctuated by another dream. And because of it, he was led into the royal halls of the preeminent empire of his time to speak to the most powerful figure in the world. And when Pharaoh, king of Egypt, asked Joseph to interpret the strange dream he had, Joseph’s first words were, “‘I cannot. But God will give Pharaoh the answer he desires’” (Genesis 41:16).
Setbacks are often the only force powerful enough to remind us of our limitations. In American culture, we are taught from day one that we are special. Our straight A’s, scholarships, raises, and promotions all attest to our singular genius.
But when we are passed over, delayed, or rejected, we’re forced to look within and take stock of our weaknesses. And we’re reminded of the grace of God that has carried us thus far.
Conclusion
When naming this article, I realized that some might misunderstand “Setbacks to Glory” as obstacles that impede our journey to greatness. But it’s quite the opposite. Setbacks are rungs on the ladder of distinction. By callousing our fingers and deflating our egos, setbacks accelerate us toward success. The question is: Will we let them set us off course from our God-given vision or set us up for the triumph to come?
“We also glory in our sufferings, because we know that sufferings produce perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope.”
If you asked me to fly to a new country to shelve my Ph. D. for a couple decades to raise three rambunctious boys, I would have laughed in your face. The depth of that sacrifice, the height of that love mystifies me. And yet that is exactly what my mom did. This year, I was moved to write the 57 58 Reasons I’m Grateful for My Mom’s Life. And I wanted to highlight a few key items from that list.
She Showed Up for Every Big Moment
I attended a boarding school for the last two years of high school. I spent several weeks explaining to my parents why there was no need for them to come up for my graduation. But that morning, as I was preparing to walk the stage alone, I received a random call from my mom. She was asking for directions, and I was frustratedly trying to figure out why she needed them right now until she revealed the whole family had just arrived in town. That day was one of the happiest moments of my life, and my friends relayed how loudly I paraded my family around my old stomping grounds.
She Rises Early Every Morning
Ever since I was young, my mom would disappear for hours on end early in the morning. If I couldn’t find her, I’d tiptoe into her study and see her praying, reading her Bible, or praising God. Day in and day out, she prioritized God’s presence. And because of her example, I began to prioritize God’s presence too.
She Supports My Dreams
No matter the dream or passion I’ve had on my heart, my mom has always supported it. I was a bench player on the junior varsity basketball team in my small high school. When the entire team consists of seven players, that is definitely saying something! And yet, my mom would pick me up day after day, week after week from our late basketball practices. I never did become the next Jordan, but I did learn the value of commitment. My mom wouldn’t stop putting in the effort to support me as long as I dedicated myself to improving my craft.
She Forgives My Mistakes
One particular winter during college, I committed the cardinal sin of misdating my mom’s birthday. I called her up and excitedly wished her a special day. I could hear the pain in her voice as she thanked me and said it was actually two days from now.
Forgotten birthdays, neglected dishes, and broken washing machines can tally up to a mighty mountain of resentment, but my mom has forgiven me for every little mistake and every big one too.
So I say happy birthday, Mom, and thank you for everything!
“Her children stand and bless her. Her husband praises her: ‘There are many virtuous and capable women in the world, but you surpass them all!'”
I spent last Saturday in Los Angeles’ remarkable Koreatown with a dozen of my friends. From salivating over tender bulgogi to munching on a toasted fish waffle, I and my stomach will cherish that sunny afternoon. But the highlight of that weekend was definitely karaoke.
The crooning of Ed Sheeran and the hoarse howling of Bruno Mars transported me back to my teenage years faster than the DeLorean. And our song choices seemed especially apt for the Valentine’s Month, alternating between sappy serenades and heartbreak belters.
But one song in particular from that tangled love sequence arrested my attention: Blank Space by Taylor Swift. If you don’t remember attempting to tune out that chart-topping pop song, here are some of the lyrics to “refresh” your memory:
So it’s gonna be forever,
Or it’s gonna go down in flames.
It’ll leave you breathless, mm
Or with a nasty scar.
Got a long list of ex-lovers.
They’ll tell you I’m insane,
But I’ve got a blank space, baby,
And I’ll write your name.
Besides forcing me to seriously question the moral fabric of the music industry, this song made me reflect on the extreme nature of many of our relationships. They’re either sweet, or they’re bitter. “I love her,” or “I hate her.” Whether it’s marriage, business partnerships, or friendships, “it’s gonna be forever, or it’s gonna go down in flames.”
No Space
But this is not the way God treats us. Of all the beings in the universe with ample reason to hold a grudge, God tops the list. He created a good world, filled it with good things, and gave it us, originally good people. Yet we shortly thereafter broke every single one of His rules, and we’ve engaged in hostile revolt ever since.
We are the backstabbing friend. We are the cheating wife. We are Brutus, Benedict, and Judas rolled into one. And yet, in the book of Hebrews, God says, “I will forgive their wickedness and will remember their sins no more” (Hebrews 8:12).
A pastor once said God is like a judge trying a murderer. But when the man is convicted for his crime, the judge steps down from his bench, takes off his robe, and insists he take the man’s place. The book of Isaiah summarizes this tremendous exchange: “But He was pierced for our transgressions, He was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was on Him, and by His wounds we are healed.” (Isaiah 53:6).
White Space
And so, by drawing from this deep well filled with the precious blood of Christ, God demands we forgive. God asks us to forgive each other “seventy-seven times” (Matthew 18:22) because He forgave us a million times. He pleads for us to lay down our hurt, anger, and pride at the foot of the cross. He says, “‘I, even I, am He who blots out your transgressions,” (Isaiah 43:25) leaving our blackened hearts as white as snow. And in that blank space, He wants to write His name.
“For His unfailing love toward those who fear Him is as great as the height of the heavens above the earth. He has removed our sins as far from us as the east is from the west.”