Already There

He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge; his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart. –Psalm 91:4

                I was lying in bed filled with fear and dread, unable to sleep. My husband’s valiantly fought battle with cancer was nearing the end. I had left him at the hospital earlier in the evening to come home to our three teenage children. I knew I had to go to work in the morning, but when sleep wouldn’t come I finally turned the light on and grabbed my Bible, hoping to find comfort that would allow me to get some rest. But my mind kept straying from the verses I was trying to read as I faced the uncertain future. 

Our only sources of income were my husband’s Social Security disability check and the small income I had from managing a kiosk at a mall. We had long since exhausted any savings. There was no life insurance. I had no idea how I would provide for our family financially.  Would we lose our home? And, more importantly, would I be able to provide emotional support for my husband in this process of letting go of this life? Would I be able to be strong for my children, or would I fall apart completely and be unable to function?

                I finally closed my Bible and prayed. I cried and poured out my fears to God. I laid out my bleak future before him and told him I didn’t think I could do what would need to be done. I expected to feel better after I prayed, but all I felt was drained.  I turned over then, to put my Bible back on the nightstand and turn out the light, and saw something lying on the floor next to my bed.  It was a small Pass It On card. For those of you who don’t know what those are, they are business sized cards which usually have pictures on them and some encouraging saying, or a scripture. I had some that had been given to me that I kept in my Bible, but this was one I had never seen before.  I leaned down and picked it up. On it was a beautiful picture of a rainbow and the words, “Do Not Be Afraid of Tomorrow. God is Already There.”

                And He was. And He is. I still have that card stuck to my mirror so I won’t forget.

Good News Revisited

[Before you read this - If you have not yet read my blog entitled Good News, please read that first. This is the sequel]

So if the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed. –John 8:36

Once upon a time, a little later than the first time, there was a man who had been a prisoner.  He had been freed by a philanthropist, and while I could retell the whole story, I think I’ll just continue on from here….

            The minute the man stepped off the prison grounds he was surrounded by a crowd of reporters who shouted, “How do you feel about being freed and acclaimed as our most outstanding citizen?” 

            The criminal was taken aback at first, but recovering quickly he responded, “Amazed and grateful!  No one could be more undeserving than I am, but I stand before you a changed man!  I swear to you, from this moment on I intend to live my life in a way that will demonstrate just how thankful and indebted I am to this man who has given me a new chance at life!  Somehow I will find a way to repay him!”  And, with the reporters still clamoring for more, he turned and walked with resolve into that new life.

            With his new found public image came many invitations to make appearances at

 Community functions.  He was interviewed incessantly, and repeated his initial heart-felt promise so many times that it became almost a meaningless mantra.  He founded, coordinated, publicized, oversaw and administered so many charities that he began to lose track.  And through it all, the force behind all this driven behavior was his belief that somehow he needed to do something to deserve the remarkable gift he had been given.

            To his credit, he lasted a year before he burned out.

            On the day he was to be named the Association of Charitable Foundations’ Man of the Year, he woke up and said to himself, “I quit!”  And after the initial adrenaline rush that generally accompanies defiance, he turned off the alarm, the cordless phone, and the cell phone and went back to sleep. 

            Of course, when he awoke and realized what he had done, remorse set in.  His original concern was how he would ever face people and explain why he had missed his own award presentation. But, deeper than that was the guilt and disappointment he felt in himself for betraying what he had seen as a sacred trust.  He had let the philanthropist down. 

            And yet, at the same time he was experiencing these feelings of shame, he also felt rather justified in what he thought of as his rebellion. After all, he had given an entire year of diligent service to mankind.  Surely he had a right to his own life.  He had taken no time for pleasure.  It was his turn!

            And so, forcing his first emotions into the background, he began to take his turn. He resigned from the boards of all his charitable organizations. He turned a deaf ear to all new pleas for his help.  He brushed off reporters with only a “No comment,” when they asked for an explanation. And whenever a nagging feeling of guilt would rise up he would smother it with a litany of self-justification.

            The only store he had to draw from for pleasure-seeking was the life he had lived before he went to prison.  It took awhile to locate some of his old friends and to convince them that he was serious about getting together for old times’ sake, but once he broke the ice it was almost as if he had never been away.  Soon he was back into the full swing of the party scene.  Sometimes though, usually when he was drunk and not as in control of his emotions as he tried to be when sober, he would think about the philanthropist and remember what had been done for him. A wave of guilt would threaten to engulf him, but his solution was to keep drinking and drown those thoughts. That worked for awhile.

            Then, one sleepless night, he came to the sudden realization that he was as surely in prison now as he had been when he was back in his cell on death row.  He looked at the life he was living, this life that had been given to him as a gift from the philanthropist, and he was overcome with self-loathing and disgust.  Yet, he saw nowhere to go.  The people he had worked with when he was first released from prison viewed him with nothing but scorn and had long ago crossed him off their lists.  The only friends he had now were his party pals, and he knew they would never understand him if he tried to talk to them about what he was feeling about his empty, selfish life. He was trapped and in despair.  He couldn’t go forward and he couldn’t go back.  Thoughts of suicide entered his mind.  He had wanted to be worthy of the gift he had been given, but he was unable to keep up the pace.  He had wanted to pursue what he thought of as pleasure, but found it shallow and empty.  He tossed and turned through the endless night.

            When morning came a letter arrived.  It was simply there in his mail box, addressed in unfamiliar handwriting, but bearing his name.  He opened it.  It was from the philanthropist.

He read:

“My Friend, My Brother,

            I wrote this letter to you before my death and left explicit instructions for it to be delivered to you at this time.  You see, I knew you would reach this point in your life sooner or later. 

            When you were first released you were humbled and grateful and had a sincere desire to prove yourself worthy of the gift I gave you.  That was an honorable desire, but the fact of the matter is, you were not deserving of the gift when I gave it to you, and you could never do enough to deserve it. I gave it to you freely, not asking anything in return.  If you had never done one thing I would still have taken your place.  This gift of life is yours to use as you wish.  Obviously I have already paid your debt.  When I set you free I set you completely free.

            You, however put yourself back into prison.  First you were imprisoned by the obligation you set for yourself to repay me.  If someone pays the giver for the gift it is no longer a gift. I never asked for or desired payment from you, because no matter what you paid it could never be enough.  This led to resentment of what you now saw as an overwhelming debt.  Instead of being grateful for the free gift of life, all you could see were endless years of selfless acts stretching out before you.  My gift became a burden.  The next obvious step was rebellion.

            Having made a break from the first prison, you ran headlong into the second one.  You set out on a course of self-destruction billed as Pleasure and Freedom. To assert your liberation from your self-imposed debt of continuous noble deeds, you launched yourself into the same dead-end lifestyle that got you onto death row to begin with.  And sure enough, you have reached that dead-end.

            Pride now has you tightly locked up.  It is too humiliating to go back to those who used to look up to you but now hold you in contempt.  And it would also be too mortifying to admit to your party crowd that their way of life leaves you parched and desperate.
            So, where do you go from here?  Do you remember the incredible joy you felt when you were first told about the deal that I offered you?  Do you remember why?  It wasn’t only because you were being released from prison.  It was because it was free.  There were no catches.  There were no strings.  There was no cost.  You were being given something that was worth more than any human being could ever have deserved, and you did not have to do ANYTHING to receive it except to say “Yes.”

It was such good news!  And it still is!  Nothing has changed.  Go back to that moment and savor it.  Nothing remains to pay.  I have paid it all.  The new life is still yours with no obligation.  Enjoy it.  Seek pleasure that is genuine and rewarding.  Find delight in things that fulfill the deep longings of your heart.  Look for what will bring you lasting contentment.  Give, but give out of joyful abandonment, not out of dutiful drudgery.  Be free! 

Think for a moment about the last selfless acts you performed that actually filled you to overflowing with happiness, perhaps there you will find the path you are looking for.”

           

            Tears streamed down the man’s face as once more he was set free by the philanthropist, this time from a prison of his own making.  He saw clearly now that anything he did in remembrance of the gift given to him was simply a gift of love. The burden of having so much to pay yet never being able to pay enough was gone.  The burden of needing to take the philanthropist’s place in the world was gone.  He was free, free to explore who and what he really wanted to be.

            His eyes caught again the final sentence of the letter and he reflected on what that last truly enjoyable act had been.  He realized with a pang it had been sharing the good news with the other death row inmates.  As he opened the envelope to put away the letter, he saw another folded sheet of paper.  Curiously he opened it.  On it was a list of the names and addresses of the other inmates with a one line note.  As he read it he smiled, “Perhaps they need to be set free again too.”

Nobody's Perfect, Especially Me

            I have never cared much for perfectionists. You know the type I mean – the ones whose houses are immaculate, not a speck of dust or dirt anywhere; the Type A overachievers who are involved in, and probably leading, everything…perfectly.  People like that make me nervous. Self conscious.  I’m pretty much a slob. I avoid perfectionists whenever possible.

            Imagine my shock then, when somewhere in the middle of my life I became aware that I too am a perfectionist! Not in the classical sense, but a perfectionist, nonetheless. I constantly measure myself against the perfect standard and find myself wanting. I see my inadequacies and feel ashamed. I try to avoid exposing my imperfections and often live in fear of being discovered as the mess I really am.

            Modern psychology would say that I suffer from low self esteem, sometimes referred to as an inferiority complex. The solution, then, would be to learn to accept myself, to embrace who I am and to value myself as a beautiful and unique person. 

            I see things a bit differently. I now try to recognize every pang of inadequacy as a reminder of the standard of perfection I am incapable of reaching. I view it as a gentle nudge from God telling me that I can stop the struggle and rest in Him. I am beginning to understand that chasing after self esteem is a dead end, a tool for those who haven’t discovered the blessed relief which is only found in God esteem. When I accepted Jesus’ righteousness in place of my own, God esteemed me as perfect. I am perfect in God’s sight. No other opinion really matters. When I remember that, I can relax and let go of the shame and fear of exposure. Then I can gratefully allow God to work in me, creating the masterpiece he wants to make of me – not by my vain efforts to be good enough, but by his transforming love.

UNASHAMED

You examine your humanity

Under a microscope

And feel ashamed.

Your tender conscience

Cannot bear

The imperfections

You find there

And so you hide

Like the first man

After the fall,

Afraid of exposing

Your nakedness

To all.

Yet all are naked...

Most unaware.

Sometimes you envy the freedom

They find there,

To walk unclothed and

Without shame...

To live without accepting blame.

Yet

This conscience is a gift of God

To draw you to the cross

Where Jesus nailed your humanity

And gave you his divinity

Which covers all.

Now you can walk in freedom

Unashamed

Wearing Jesus' robe

And bearing Jesus' name.

Out of Control?

For this God is our God for ever and ever; he will be our guide even to the end. –Psalm 48:14

               

                I recently watched the movie Contagion.  Without giving away the entire plot, I want to share the thing that impressed me most about the movie – all of the scenes which showed people touching things. Eventually the message was clear - people touch everything. The scenes were meant to convey the sheer magnitude of the threat; the virtual impossibility of escaping exposure to the virus. Anyone watching the movie was left with the realization that no amount of hand washing, antibacterial hand sanitizer or masks would keep a person safe from something like that.

                When H1N1 was the virus du jour I signed up for the CDC updates. I’m not sure why, other than it gave me an illusion of control. Knowledge is power, or something like that. I’ve always been a worrier, always wanted to find a way to control my circumstances. I doubt that I am very different from most people.

                As a child, I worried whenever my parents went out. I was a ball of nerves every first day of every school year, even though I went to the same school with the same kids and teachers for most of my elementary and middle school years.  In high school I worried about everything – my family, my grades, whether I was considered a likeable or loveable person, whether the talents I thought I had were talents at all.  Those worries looked more mature in college, but, in reality, they were about the same, I just learned to be a better actor.   

                When I became a wife and ultimately a mother, a whole new can of worry opened! I was concerned about my relationship with my husband. I was fearful about finances. I was consumed with my inadequacy as a parent, fearing that I was ruining my children with my frailties and failures.  As a matter of fact, I lived in constant fear of anything bad happening to my children.  If you’re a parent, you know what I mean. Every sniffle, every new tooth, every stage of development that didn’t seem to occur when I thought it should; every bump and bruise, both physical and emotional.

                As my children grew, so did my apprehension. What might they do to themselves or others in their youthful ignorance and arrogance? How could I control them? Was I making right decisions? Could I keep them safe?

                Then, while my three children were teens, my husband got sick. First a heart attack, then cancer. I was stretched in so many directions I didn’t feel I was giving appropriate attention to anyone or anything in my life. I worried that my husband didn’t feel as supported and cared for as I wanted him to feel. I often felt that my children were abandoned and therefore out of control because I wasn’t there to watch over them and parent them in the way I felt I should while I was at the hospital with their dad.  I also had a job that I felt I could not afford to lose.

                Ultimately, my husband lost the battle with cancer. I was a widow with three lost and confused teens, and barely any income. Then, almost immediately, my mother’s physical and mental health took a dramatic turn for the worse, and I, as the only child, suddenly found myself dealing with all that accompanies that kind of situation. I was completely overwhelmed. Everything I had been trying to deal with had brought me to the realization that I was not in control of anything. There were too many needs and I could not meet them all. I found I was totally unable to carry the responsibility of what was happening to everyone and the effect it was having on them. I faced the fact that I had no other choice but to do the best I could, and leave it to God. I saw that the possibilities for disaster were endless and it was absurd to think that I could do enough to protect us from them all.  I don’t mean that I quit and did nothing. I did what I could, but acknowledged that it was not I, but God, who was in control.

                I wish I could say I completely learned my lesson then, and since that time I have released everything to God; living without the fear, worry, guilt and shame that comes from thinking I should be in control of what happens to me and those I love. But, surrender of control, or really the illusion of control, is a lesson God continues to teach me. In each new set of circumstances, it seems, he has to remind me again that there are too many variables, too many opportunities for exposure to the “viruses” of life, for me to anticipate them all and keep myself, my family and my friends safe. He gently asks me daily to trust him with whatever happens, and to let him be God.

                 My story is uniquely mine. Everyone has a story, and, in everyone’s story there will come a point where the sheer magnitude of what you are facing or have faced causes you to consider the impossibility of controlling what life throws your way. When you reach that point in your story, I hope you grasp the fact that you are right, you are not in control, you can’t be, and it’s okay, because there is One who is and always has been, even when things do not happen the way you would have chosen.

                Tragedies happen.  People get sick, maybe even you. People die. Maybe you or someone you love is facing death right now. Maybe you have lost the most important relationship of your life. Maybe you have been a rotten parent, or at the very least, an imperfect one - because no one is perfect - and your children have been affected by your mistakes. Maybe your very worst fear has already been realized. Whatever is going on in your story, your life is not in chaos.  God is there, right there with you, and has always had you in his hands. He will provide for your needs and will gently guide you step by step wherever you go.

God's Hands

For you make me glad by your deeds, LORD; I sing for joy at what your hands have done.                                                                 –Psalm 92:4

                A few days after Christmas, 1968, my boyfriend Don and I were travelling home with his family after spending the holidays in the tropical Florida Keys.   After a pit stop at a gas station, Don decided to ride in the car with his parents, while Connie and Susie, his two teenage sisters, and I chose to lounge in the Airstream trailer being towed behind. We had been on the road for a few minutes when Connie noticed that the trailer door had not been completely shut.  We wondered briefly what to do, picturing the wind catching the door and blowing it off.  We feared we would be in big trouble!  Because this was in the days before cell phones, we had no way of communicating the problem to Don’s parents in the car.  We gathered on the floor by the offending door trying to decide on a plan, when suddenly, Susie decided to act.  With no warning, she reached out, grabbed the door knob and pushed the door open a bit, intending to give the door a good slam shut. 

                By this time we were travelling somewhere between 50 and 60 mph, and the wind did almost exactly what we had pictured, it blew the door completely open with  Susie hanging on the door knob, dragging her out of the trailer!  This happened so quickly that neither Connie nor I could react in time to grab her before she was whisked out of our reach.  In my memory, what happened next seems to have been in slow motion.  I remember lying on my stomach halfway out the door, trying vainly to grab her.  I remember telling her I couldn’t reach her.  I remember Susie screaming that she couldn’t hold on and seeing that her dangling legs were being pulled by gravity and the wind toward the wheels of the trailer.  Incredibly, no one in the car had seen a thing, so we were still barreling down the road.  After what seemed like hours, but was probably only seconds, I yelled to her that she would have to let go.  She screamed no, but then, suddenly, she did.  I saw her fly off the door and land on the side of the road as we continued rolling away from her. 

                At  that point I got on my knees and leaned as far out as I could, screaming and pounding on the side of the trailer with both hands, to get the attention of the people in the car.  Finally they saw and heard me and pulled to the side of the road.  Don’s mother was the first to get out, smiling and trying to reassure me that there was no need to have risked my life because of the door, but when she and her husband, who had come around the car to join her, finally understood my frantic gibberish and pointing, they turned their horrified gazes back down the highway.  Don’s father began running as fast as he could in the direction I was pointing.  We were unable to see Susie and had no idea what might have happened to her.  Time stood still as we waited, not sure what to do.

                Then, incredibly, we saw him walking back up the road with a badly bruised and scraped Susie walking beside him.  We drove straight to the nearest hospital and waited nervously while she was checked out.  Amazingly, the most severe injury she sustained was a hairline fracture of one arm, which did not require a cast.

                When we resumed our journey once more, with the three of us tucked safely back in the trailer with a securely shut door, we began to talk to each other about what had happened.  Each of us was describing the event from her perspective.  Then Susie said to me, “Thank you so much for pushing me off the door!  I never would have had the courage to let go if you hadn’t, and I could see my legs were about to be dragged under the wheels of the trailer.”

                It took a moment for me to register what she had said and then I replied, “Susie, I didn’t push you off the door, I couldn’t reach you.  I tried and tried, but you were too far away.”

                “But you did,” she protested, “I felt your hands on my back.  You gave me a big shove away from the trailer and I landed on the side of the road.”

                We all sat there in silence for a minute.  Over forty years later it still gives me chills to remember.  I shook my head in wonder, “Susie, those were not my hands,” I said.

Copyright © 2008 Bonnie Petroschuk. All Rights Reserved

GOOD NEWS

The LORD looked down from his sanctuary on high,
   from heaven he viewed the earth,
   to hear the groans of the prisoners
   and release those condemned to death.  –Psalm 102:19-20

              Once upon a time there was a criminal who had committed some very serious crimes.  He had his trial and was found guilty and sentenced to death in the electric chair.  He was then placed on death row to wait for the time when his sentence would be carried out.  Day after dreary day passed, and now all he had to look forward to was the moment they would come to his cell, take him to the chair, strap him in and end his life.

            As time passed, he got to know the other inmates on death row, and he came to care about them, because they were his world now.  Some of them had appeals in to the governor, and he followed their cases with interest, rooting for them.  But he had no such hope, because he was guilty, and there were no grounds for appeal.

            Then one day a guard came to his cell door, opened it and said, "prisoner, get your things, you are being released."

            He looked up to see what the joke was, but the guard appeared to be serious, so he asked, "What do you mean?"

            "Your crimes have been wiped off the record, your sentence has been erased, and furthermore, the governor has declared you to be our most outstanding citizen", the guard answered.

            The man laughed out loud.  "Oh sure!" he responded, "And tomorrow they make me the Pope!"

            "This isn't a joke!" the guard replied gruffly.

            "Then it’s a mistake!” the man shot back.

            "No, there's no mistake.  There is a man, a well known philanthropist, whom you don’t know. He knows about you, however, and he has decided to give you a second chance. He went to the governor and the courts and made a deal with them that your crimes would go on his record and his record of excellent conduct would belong to you.  Now he is going to come to death row to take your place in the electric chair, so you are free to go.”

            This was more than the criminal could comprehend.  Even in his wildest dreams of rescue, and he’d had some wild ones, he had never dreamed anything this incredible!

            “What’s the catch?” He asked, realizing that there must be some impossible requirement on his part for someone to do something like this for him.  He felt his heart sinking as he waited for the answer.

            But the guard responded, “There is no catch.  All you have to do is agree to the deal.”

            At this the man began to cry, overwhelmed at the tremendous gift he was being given for no reason.  After all, he was clearly guilty and undeserving, yet this man he did not even know was offering to die in the electric chair for his crimes, and he, the criminal, would go out into the world with absolutely no record hanging over his head.  More than that, he would have this man’s record of model behavior as his own. And all he had to do to receive this gift was to accept it!

            His head was spinning as the guard said, “So, what do you say?  Do you agree or not?”

            In a daze, with his heart full of emotions that were unfamiliar to him; emotions like gratitude, tremendous joy, humility and a total recognition of his unworthiness, he said, “Yes! Yes, of course I agree!”

            As the man gathered his few belongings and headed for the open cell door the guard said, “Oh, there is more.”

            The man braced himself, expecting the worst, but to his utter amazement the guard continued, “This philanthropist has made the same arrangement for everyone on death row.  I was asked only to tell you, now it’s up to you to decide what you want to do with the information.”

            Do you suppose the man decided to keep this news to himself and quietly, selfishly leave his friends to their fate?  No!  Out he bounded, running from cell to cell, shouting the story of the incredible offer that had been made to each of them, and rejoicing with them, as one by one they too accepted it.  And that, my friends, is the Good News!  That is the gospel.  All of us, everyone, is on death row until we accept what has been offered to us by Jesus Christ.  And all we have to do to accept is to say, “Yes.”

            That’s it.  Period.  No strings attached.  Accept it and the gift is yours! 

Of course, we all know that every illustration breaks down and can be picked apart.  But the bottom line is that what Jesus actually did for us is even better than this story.  The philanthropist could only offer the criminals a second chance in this life and, being human and criminals, they would very likely have blown it.  But Jesus offers us a relationship with him, and the Holy Spirit to live in our hearts to help us with this life.  And, best of all, he offers us an eternal life one day where there will be no more failure, no more sin, or fear or pain or sadness or sickness or death.

            There may be some of you who are still on death row.  Maybe you didn’t know the good news.  Maybe you didn’t know about the deal Jesus is offering to you.  Maybe you didn’t know all you had to do to receive the gift was to say, “Yes.”  If the Holy Spirit is speaking to you and you want to accept the deal, you can, right here and now.  Just tell God, “Yes.  I know I am guilty and I don’t deserve it, but Yes, I accept Jesus’ offer to die in my place.”  And it is yours. Your record is wiped clean and God welcomes you as his son or daughter, with Jesus’ perfect record in place of your sins.  You are now free!

            Go and share the Good News.

Allow Me to Introduce Myself

However, I consider my life worth nothing to me; my only aim is to finish the race and complete the task the Lord Jesus has given me—the task of testifying to the good news of God’s grace.   --Acts 20:24


My name is Bonnie, but if any one of my three children ever has a girl (I have 2 grandsons and another on the way!), they have talked about giving her the middle name Grace, and would consider that as naming her after me, because they know that testifying to the good news of God’s grace is the passion of my life.

I have loved God since I was a child. I spent my early life wanting so badly to please him, but I was constantly filled with alternating determination and despair. I grew up in a church which taught me that when you accepted Jesus as your Savior he forgave all the sins you had committed up to that point, but any sins you committed after that you had to be sure to confess and ask forgiveness for, because if you died with any unconfessed sins you were lost.  I was also taught that God was up in heaven reviewing the lives of those who claimed to be Christian, to see if their behavior measured up, and if it didn't, they were found unacceptable. 

I kept hearing that after I gave my heart to God I would have the ability, by the power of the Holy Spirit, to be obedient, to be righteous. But I knew I wasn't. By the world's standards, I was not a bad person, but I knew that by God's standards, I was. I recognized my lack of love, my pride, my self-pity, etc. I kept answering altar calls, reasoning that I must not have made a true commitment the other times I had given my life to God, or I would be "doing" better, with the help of the Holy Spirit. I wept, I confessed, I repented, I pleaded, over and over.

Eventually, when I was about 30, I was introduced to what I then called Righteousness by Faith, and now call grace. It seemed too good to be true! I remember locking myself away with the book of Romans - no commentaries, just Scripture and the Holy Spirit - like it was a matter of life and death, because to me it was! If this was a lie and I believed it, then I would be lost!  Finally, by God's grace, I was given a clear picture of what Paul was saying. I can't tell you how excited and relieved I was! And still am, to this day!  I never stopped being consumed with wanting to do God's will, to serve him and please him, I just stopped the cycle of fear and despair.

This is what I learned in Romans: The entire human race stands on one side of a chasm, the size of infinity, condemned by the law and God's requirement of perfect obedience, doomed to suffer the wrath of God. But Jesus came and fulfilled the requirements of that law and then suffered the wrath of God and united me to him in his life, death and finally in his resurrection. I now stand on the other side of that chasm, with God, who is well-pleased with me, not because of my own good works, but because I am "in Christ". The law that condemned me and doomed me is still on the other side of that chasm. It has no more power over me now because in Christ I am safe. I have died and been resurrected with Him. God sees me as perfect, because he has credited me with Christ's righteousness. Romans 4:17 says, "He gives life to the dead and calls things that are not as though they were." He calls me righteous (which I am not) as though I were. It is because of that incredible gift that I did not and could not earn, that I am exhorted to no longer offer my body to sin, but to surrender myself to God as his slave, as a response of gratitude for this entirely undeserved gift of salvation.

I teach the Senior High teens at my church, and I tell them that Jesus gives us an A in the Class of Salvation 101 and then the Holy Spirit teaches us the material in his own time and way, uniquely and personally designed for each of us, transforming us, in His time, into the image of the Son. He is the one who causes us to want and to do his good pleasure. I haven't met any living person who can say, believably, that the transformation has been completed in them. But God says he began the work, and he will be faithful to complete it, some Glorious Day!

To be honest, even after my ‘Aha’ moment with Romans, I still fell into the quicksand of legalism from time to time. It has taken me about the same length of time to unlearn "works righteousness" as it did to learn it originally--about 30 years. I think I've "got it" now, but I still feel the need to constantly run to the cross and thank God again and again that it is not about me and how well I am doing. It is only and always about Jesus and what he did and continues to do for me!

My prayer is that my blog may play some small part in giving you the encouragement and relief I have found in this good news of  God's grace.