Still in the whisper.

You’re forgiven.

I’ve heard it & memorized it all my life, but for some reason yesterday was when the whole thing hit home. In a worship song during church, before a word of the preachers message was even spoken. & that’s actually all that filled my ears the whole time he shared.


& you’re all like ‘I know, I know’, & all simultaneously thinking how horrid my lack of grammatical usage is in this whole thing, & though I usually try to put on a pretty show for you all & prove that I can start a sentence without using an ampersand, today I found the profoundness that God has pressed into me so much more important than the occasional run on sentence. Sorry.

But we hear the word forgiven, & we do the Christian thing, visualizing that holy cross on that hill with those nails & the little patch of Easter Lillies by the foot of the wooden pole. & we think of Christ’s outstretched arms, imagining him saying that this was all for you.

So I say all this to tell you to drop the cheesy image in your head.
Drop the historical association. These words hold so much more power if you’ll let them.

What struck me yesterday in that church balcony as so much different. Because I heard the words you’re forgiven & I saw Christ not enchained to the cross any longer. I saw him entering into my deepest wounds. My worst short comings. The same gashes others witness & later dig into their scars to remind you of your imperfection & how you did it again & why you are so unworthy of love. But Christ is so different. He doesn’t dig up the past or throw his hands in the air when you’ve lost your way again.

“His divine power has granted to us all things that pertain to life & godliness, through the knowledge of him who called us to his own glory and excellence, by which he has granted to us his precious & very great promises, so that through them you may become partakers of the divine nature…” (2 Peter 1:3-4)

He is every ounce of kindness & love & grace & gentleness & compassion, & he pleads with you not to chain yourself to the imagine of himself still bound to the cross. He has broken every chain & he’s asking you to believe in him & believe in his forgiveness & walk forward with him even through the difficulty. He sees what you’ve done & doesn’t second guess whether he created you poorly or should’ve left you out from his plan. He doesn’t have to go out side & take a long drive to compose himself & think through whether you are still welcome in his arms. He’s not an a life insurance agent, countering in all you do wrong to see if you’re just going blow through all his grace. He is Jesus. Healing your wounds & abounding in grace. He says you’re whole, love, & he’s asking you to be a partaker in his divine nature. You’re new. You’re enough. You’re forgiven. Everyday. Every hour. Everything you always thought you’d be strong enough to withstand & suddenly find yourself battling it out against. His voice isn’t raised. His voice isn’t questioning. He’s still in the whisper. You’reforgivenyou’reforgivenyou’reforgiven.




It’s your turn, love. Break the silence. Spill your guts.

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