Growing up in The Church, all my life I have heard of Christ and His forgiveness, mercy, grace, etc. It was understood, a given. When asked why I was saved, I would give the answer I learned early, "Jesus died for my sins."
Yet now, as an adult, I give that answer offhand, without a thought, and it's only in the quiet that I truly begin to ponder its meaning.
It is a thing that I have never been capable of grasping fully. I have never before had to cling to it, rely upon it as my only hope, know that without it I would perish in despair and wretched filth.
For years I have been an intellectual Christian: in my mind, I know that I have been rescued from damnation; I can argue all I like for Biblical principles and morals; I can regurgitate the words that have been running between my ears since birth. But, of course, on any real plane it all had no meaning. It was an understanding of the flesh and no more.
...
I do not know at what point my faith shifted from its simple path onto such a wayward route. Perhaps it was when I left the church, or when I moved in with my boyfriend. I made many foolish decisions after that moment - I eloped, and told no one; I eventually let my eyes and heart wander; I divorced my husband (although it was technically justified, I still do not agree with or condone divorce); I made some rather foolish choices this last summer, and ultimately removed all control from God. I was in charge, and oh, how poor I turned out to be at that job.
Yet I do know at what point I returned to the old path, rough and hidden though it may be in this wood. On September second, I took a drive at sunrise, and upon having a spontaneous and inspired talk with my God, for the briefest of moments I caught a glimpse of a shadow cast by His glory. Dim though it might be in His glorious presence, nonetheless it shone radiant before me and since then, in leaps (and occasional gradual steps), I have returned to Him. But still I held onto the weight of my shame.
Recently, I learned that I needed to at last fully relinquish my claim on my guilt. If I was to let God actually care for me, well, I needed to let Him do it in all ways. While I envy those who carry no such burden, still perhaps they might be jealous of me; for though I have always the thoughts to dredge up my previous wicked acts, still I know, far more than any righteous man, what it is to accept grace. It is something that I will never take for granted. I am no better for it, in fact, I am even more keenly aware of how pitiful I am - but I can never go without my God again. His death wrenches me from my grasp upon this pale world as it never would otherwise. I am desperate for Him and His light, without fear of its brilliance.
Savior:daylight.
