Tag: mercy

Clumsy Man in the Hands of a Perfect God

By Ife J. Ibitayo

While shopping at Wal-Mart last week, I knocked over a bottle of Dove body wash. I fumbled it like a loose football, and it slid under the shopping cart of a fellow shopper. The skinny Asian woman graciously handed it back to me. As I bent over to accept it, my glasses fell off my face. The woman smiled and asked, “Is this some kind of trick?” like a charade or a comedy act. I grinned back sheepishly and thought, Unfortunately, this is a way of life.

I’ve been notoriously clumsy ever since I was young. Slamming doors are the mortal enemies of my delicate fingers. I’d swear that invisible stub magnets are attached to my pinky toes. And I can only thank God that I didn’t grow up in any cities that iced over frequently. I slip well enough all on my own!

The Weight of My Imperfection

In spite of my clumsy ways, I’ve also ironically struggled with perfectionism my whole life. Growing up in a Nigerian household, I was implicitly and explicitly taught that “A” was the standard. Anything less was failure, and I applied this lesson ruthlessly to every area of my life. I strived to be an “A” student, an “A” brother, an “A” son, an “A” engineer, an “A” writer, and an “A” Christian because anything less was not acceptable. My college experience could be summed up by Matthew 5:48: “Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect.”

Perfection is not an easy weight to bear. I remember getting my first report card in grad school and being shaken at receiving two A-minuses. My GPA only went down from there. I’ve always striven for perfection, but over time, I’ve become devastated by the overwhelming chasm between where I am and where I think I should be.

The Strength of His Perfection

This reality is why I’m uniquely passionate about the Christian concept of grace. Grace is unmerited favor, receiving what you do not deserve. In the book of Ephesians, Apostle Paul said, “We were by nature deserving of wrath. But because of His great love for us, God, who is rich in mercy, made us alive with Christ even when we were dead in transgressions—it is by grace you have been saved” (Ephesians 2:3-5). I am not good enough to be an “A” son. I don’t have what it takes to be an “A” employee all day every day. And I will never be an “A” Christian. But none of that matters.

God chose me because He loves me. I’m not subject to His wrath because of His mercy. I am heaven bound because of His grace. None of these realities are contingent upon my performance. They are rooted in the unchanging nature of my God (Hebrews 13:8).

Conclusion

The title of this article is a reference to Jonathan Edwards’ famous sermon “Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God.” In that message, Edwards’ describes our plight in horrifying, vivid detail: “Your wickedness makes you as it were heavy as lead…and if God should let you go, you would immediately sink and swiftly descend and plunge into the bottomless gulf.” The shackles of my sinfulness weigh down my wrists. The mistakes of yesterday enfold my throat. The inky abyss awaits to swallow me whole if I trip just one more time.  But something arrests me.

As Paul said in the book of Ephesians, “But God.” In spite of my imperfection, because of His perfection, my salvation is sure. Each teetering step I take is steadied by the hand of my invisible Father. His perfection is stronger than my clumsiness, and it’s greater than all my mistakes.

“My God, His way is perfect: The LORD’s Word is flawless; He shields all who take refuge in Him.”

(Psalm 18:30)

Foundation of Forgiveness (Healing House Pt. 2)

For Part 1, “Reframing”, click here.

By Ife J. Ibitayo

Perhaps the greatest virtue in the world is forgiveness. I can dole it out in spades when someone scuffs my shoe or bumps my shoulder. But what about when life gets real? For instance, when I was in elementary school, I told my best friends who my crush was. The following day, my whole class knew. A bully in my class tormented me for months with fake notes and prank calls. This kind of story sticks to your heart like glue.

When we’re hurt, our first reflex is to hold on to that offense. When others do us wrong, they owe us. When life does us wrong, life owes us. When God does us wrong, God owes us. Our unhealed wounds give us an ever-flowing well of gripes and complaints that we draw upon to justify our present unhappiness and discontent. It provides a refuge in a bitter and cold world.

Mold of Unforgiveness

But most of us don’t realize we’re acting this way. Unforgiveness is like mold. It creeps in slowly, silently. Then it poisons every relationship in our life.

I remember one man I worked for. He was responsible for some of the most painful years of my life. One day, as I was crying out to God about the pain he’d caused me, I felt led by God to ask for his forgiveness (see Isaiah 55:9-10). So I followed through. I asked for the man’s forgiveness and internally made the decision to extend forgiveness to him as well. But I spent the rest of my tenure under him stiff and on edge.

Just as I illustrated, our forgiveness will tend to be half-hearted or, at best, incomplete. The sage King Solomon once said that “if your enemy is hungry, feed him. If he is thirsty, give him something to drink. For in so doing you will be heaping fiery coals on his head” (Romans 12:20). But our forgiveness often looks like just stopping short of “heaping fiery coals on their head.”

Opening the Door

Some have said that unforgiveness is like drinking poison and wishing the other person would die. I’d say it’s like lighting their house on fire, then realizing you’re the one trapped in the flames. When we let others go, we set ourselves free. We fling the front door open and let the driving rain of grace and mercy in.

But as I said before, unforgiveness is our natural reflex, and it’s largely invisible to us. Most of us have let roots of bitterness spring up within us (Hebrews 12:15) because of our ungrateful children or our combative spouse or our demanding boss.  But God is the Lord of reconciliation, and He has created us to be ambassadors of reconciliation at home, at school, and at our workplaces (2 Corinthians 5:18). He loves to reconcile the estranged.

The first step is prayer. Countless believes have shared stories about how their hatred melted into compassion when they began praying for those who have wounded them. The word says that “the prayer of a righteous person is powerful and effective” (James 5:17), and that includes the power to crack hearts of stone, including our own. The last step might be initiating contact: a phone call, a coffee break, or even dinner.

Conclusion

Forgiveness must come first. All other foundations are shifting sand. Just as our relationship with God started with the forgiveness He gave us through the death of His Son, so does our relationship with everyone else. Let bitterness die; let forgiveness bloom; and start building well.

“’Everyone then who hears these words of mine and does them will be like a wise man who built his house on the rock.  And the rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat on that house, but it did not fall, because it had been founded on the rock. And everyone who hears these words of mine and does not do them will be like a foolish man who built his house on the sand. And the rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell, and great was the fall of it.’”

(Matthew 7:24-27)