Fear that the past will come back to haunt me

I was recently having a conversation with a friend who shared his testimony- his story of redemption in following Christ after living a devastatingly destructive life.  And my reaction to his testimony was surprising to me- I was envious. And I said as much. Almost as soon as I said it I wished I could take it back, and I felt the need to qualify the statement. I wasn’t envious of the life he’d lived or the experiences that had brought him to the place he is now. I was envious of the story- that powerfully engaging story of how he came to know Jesus. I felt like I didn’t have much of a story: it was boring, run-of-the-mill, the same as most of the Christians-since-childhood that I knew.

Oh my. First of all, everyone has a story.  No, they aren’t all tales of horrors faced and demons overcome. But everyone has a past. Everyone has had trials and tribulations and overcome great, or small, odds.

I had a feeling that my words were going to come back to haunt me, I just wasn’t sure how or when.  Well, Friday night it happened.  In a wonderfully terrifying moment, the Lord gave me a rundown of my past, sort of like the cliché of your life “flashing before your eyes.”  Only this was the highlight reel of my sins- those I committed physically and those that occurred in my mind. I rehashed events that I thought I had long since buried, thoughts that I was convinced only I knew about.  I recalled sins that I had willingly committed, KNOWING that they were sins, and felt no remorse for them at the time. Because I knew God would forgive me, I figured it wasn’t a big deal. There have been times that I’ve been haunted by these past indiscretions. When I’ve felt that if anyone knew the full extent of my past thoughts and deeds that they wouldn’t love me anymore; that they would just walk away. That the Lord would walk away.

A little heavy for a Friday night, I know.

In the aftermath of this little mental slide show, I was left wondering what on earth to do with this information. I’d just unearthed the fact that I do, in fact, have some stuff to tell. But I don’t want to tell anyone. No. one. But I started with telling God.  I knew that He already knew, but I felt like He needed to hear it straight from my heart. I’m not Eve cowering in the bushes, afraid of the wrath of God. I’m the adulteress who looks upon the Lord for judgment and waits for the first stone to be cast. The stone that never came. (John 7:53, 8:1-11).  (The distinction in my mind is that the adulteress knew that she was guilty and expected her deserved punishment, whereas Eve didn't know what to expect.)

But, Jesus is not like the people we know. This should not be news to anyone. However, I am guilty of putting human limits on Christ- limits on His compassion, limits on His love for me, limits on His mercy. I can’t fathom His unlimited compassion, love, and mercy- for me, for the adulteress, even for the guy that murdered all those people in Colorado. We can’t earn that love, we don’t even deserve that love, but nonetheless it is ours if we just ask.

I was a little afraid when the Lord pressed upon me to write this blog.  I was afraid that He wanted me to air all my dirty laundry for all to see. Then I understood that it wasn’t the nitty gritty details that He wanted me to share.  It’s the story of redemption that is important, you see, not the details.

My story of redemption: 

I’ve known about Christ for as long as I can remember. I’ve also known sin as long as I can remember; I just may not have always known that’s what it was called. I “accepted” the Lord as my savior when I was just a little girl. I use quotations because I’ve always said that, but now I doubt that was actually true. I said all the right words, prayed the right prayers, but didn’t accept Him in my heart.  Fast-forward a few years and as I got older, I strayed further from the Lord. The sins got bigger, my boldness in committing them grew, and my relationship with God was nearly non-existent. Oh, I prayed. But they weren’t prayers seeking the Lord; they were lists of desires and requests, with a little bartering thrown in for good measure. I only went to church out of obligation. I didn’t crack open my Bible.  But, I figured that I was still a pretty good person and I prayed that prayer as a child, so I felt like I was covered.  Only, every now and then, I would think about those things that I’d done that ashamed me. Those thoughts, that if anyone knew… 'Well', I would think, 'better not think about that right now. I mean, no one will ever know unless I tell him or her.' I felt like a hypocrite though- a self-described “Christian” who was a shameful sinner and had some pretty big doubts about the whole Jesus-dying-on-the-cross thing.  It was quite honestly easier to just not think about it.  

And then Easter of 2010 came around. I made the obligatory visit to my grandmother’s new church home, but this was different than any previous Easter. This one hit home all the way to my soul. I had heard the resurrection story many times, but it was like I was hearing it for the first time. Jesus died on the cross. For me and my sins- He was willing to do that to pay the price for those sins that I had willingly, knowingly committed. And the only thing that separated me from God was believing in that truth.  I felt such a rush of emotion- shame that he paid such a high price for sins I was so cavalier about, sadness that I had spent so many years running away from God and the truth that should have been so easy to accept, and unabashed joy that I had the opportunity to start over with God. I wish I’d had the courage to step forward that day and tell everyone what a miraculous change had occurred in my heart, but I didn’t. I just sat in my seat with tears in my eyes. I’d love to tell you that my days of knowingly committing sins ended that day, but I’m afraid that would be a lie. But I can tell you that little by little the Lord is chipping away at my old life, my old fears, and showing me the way to build my relationship with Him. And the more I seek Him, the more I find Him. I now know He that was always there, just patiently waiting for me to ask.

Friends, I don’t know who is reading this blog. I don’t know why I’m writing this blog. But I have a feeling that someone is going to read this who needs to know that you aren’t alone. What should be an easy truth to accept isn’t always easy. It should be easy to stop knowingly commit sins.  It isn’t. It should be easy to let go of the past and live in the present. It hasn’t been for me.  But know that there is freedom in Jesus Christ.  Not freedom to sin as you please, but freedom from those sins. With Jesus, you begin again-- free from the burden of those sins, and free to live the life that God wants for you. Rest easy tonight, friends, for the Lord is with us.