A Life Worthy

Hide your face from my sins and blot out all my iniquity (Psalm 51:9).

“Wow, I hope nobody saw that.”

How many times have you thought those words?

Oh, come on—it’s more than that and you know it.

When you do something embarrassing, you simply don’t want people looking at you.  Whether it’s missing the easy shot, tripping over your own feet, or walking into the only tetherball pole in an entire acre of middle school asphalt—all of which I have done—you don’t want an audience.  You kinda want the ground to open up and swallow you, just so that no one can look at you.

When you do something truly wrong—when you intentionally sin—that feeling goes way past embarrassment.

It becomes shame.

And you would do anything, just anything, to turn back the clock, to undo what you did, or at least to dissolve into the ground, just so that no one can look at you.

David gets you.  He’s been there, only bigger.  He cried out to God to look away from him, to act as if he hadn’t seen David’s sin.  He begged his Lord to take the sin away, to make it as though it had never occurred.

And God did.

Consequences?  Oh, yes, there were consequences.

There always are.

But David’s relationship with God was restored.

God did that because David was his Beloved.

Oh, yeah—you and I are Beloved, too.

Wow.

Happy Wednesday, Beloved.

Cleanse me with hyssop, and I will be clean; wash me, and I will be whiter than snow (Psalm 51:7).

Lady Macbeth knew.

Most of us can recall little of our high school Shakespeare, but we remember the murdering queen who walked and talked in her sleep.  Night after night she got out of bed, still asleep, and tried to scrub the blood of her crimes from her hands.  There was nothing visible on her skin, but she knew the blood—the sin—was there.

“Out, out, damn spot!” she cried, but she could not make herself clean.  When the doctor saw her somnambulistic scrubbing, he commented that she did not need a doctor—she needed the Divine.  This doctor knew his stuff—most would have gone with leeches.

Bad news—no one can cleanse your heart except God himself.  Few would be willing, and none would be able.

Good news—God is more than willing, and he is more than able.  Whiter than snow, Baby.  Whiter than snow.

Put down the Boraxo, Beloved.  Lift your heart to Him.

Surely I was sinful at birth, sinful from the time my mother conceived me (Psalm 51:5).

Well, there’s a comforting thought.

It’s not bad enough that it’s Thursday;  I‘ve gotta get hit with the concept that I’ve been sinful for as long as I’ve been me.

Still…there it is.

It’s not like sin is just a onetime, or even sometime, thing.  David can’t say, “Oops, I slipped.  Apart from this episode, I’ve pretty much been perfection.”  Even David—giant killing, Psalm writing, man-after-God’s-own heart David—knows that sin seems to be woven into the very fabric of his nature.  He doesn’t even stand a chance of standing on his own.  It’s like fighting cancer with cough drops.

Poor David.

Poor me.

Poor us.

And yet God, because of who he is, loved us anyway.

And so God, because he loved us, didn’t want us to die in sin, as we were born in sin.

And then God, because he didn’t want us to die, died in our place.

And now God, because he died for us, raises us to life in him.

And this God, who had raised you to life, calls you Beloved.

I guess it’s not such a bad way to start your day, after all.

Happy Thursday, Beloved.

For I know my transgressions, and my sin is always before me (Psalm 51:3).

There are only two people you can’t hide your sin from.

As it happens, they are the only two people who matter.

Hmm…that may be more than enough to chew on for a Tuesday.

So chew, Beloved.

…and, beginning to sink, he cried out, “Lord, save me!”  Immediately, Jesus reached out his hand and caught him.  “You of little faith,” he said, “why did you doubt?” (Matthew 14: 30-31). 

Peter was in over his head—literally.  He had taken his eyes off Jesus, focused on his immediate circumstances, and panicked.  His grand venture of faith was falling apart rather quickly.

So he cried out to God.

Good move, Pete.

There are two things that really hit me in this passage.  The first is Peter’s faith.

Yes, I realize that this story highlights his doubt—Jesus points this out himself.  But I think that his doubt is not so much in God’s ability to work as it is in God’s willingness to work in Peter.  It’s a feeling I know all too well.  I know that God can do anything he wants; I just can’t imagine that he wants to do it through me.  It’s a weird mixture of pride and self-doubt that we all fall victim to.

Except you, Beloved.  I know—you’ve got it all together.

But Peter’s faith in God is rock-solid—no pun intended.  After all, to whom does he cry out in his fear?

To whom do you cry out?

The other thing that strikes me in this passage is the Lord’s reaction to Peter.  “Immediately, Jesus reached forth his hand and caught Peter.”  Jesus did not let Peter founder and flop and flail in the water.  He was there, waiting, at the moment his child needed him.

Then he spoke to Peter.  Now I can’t be sure in what tone of voice he said, “You of little faith, why did you doubt?”  Perhaps he was frustrated; maybe he was genuinely curious.  My gut tells me, though, that there was a smile in his eyes, and that small shake of the head that a parent uses when his child has goofed.  I haven’t found it in any translation of this passage, but I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if Jesus had followed up this statement with, “You knucklehead.”

Maybe that’s just me.

The more I think about it, the more I am convinced that Jesus was pleased rather than frustrated with Peter.  I think he truly enjoyed seeing Peter take these few faltering steps of faith, just like I loved seeing my kids learn to walk.  Sure they fell, and I chuckled when they did, because I knew that ultimately I would keep them safe.

I don’t know what God is calling you to today.  Could be adventure; could be trial.  But I do know this—he’s calling you out on the water.  He has a challenge for you.  He wants to show you what he can do in and through you.  Sure you might fall—and he stands ready to catch you.  Sure you might fail—and he stands ready to pick you up and let you try again.  Don’t be afraid of letting him down.  Every step you take in him makes him proud as can be.  Don’t be deceived into thinking that God wouldn’t work through you.  Trust me, he’s worked through a lot worse than you.

He’s worked through me.

Just look to the One who loves you, Beloved.

Step out.