Monday, May 25, 2009

If I wasn't such a white girl

A couple of years ago I read a book (I believe it was by Beth Moore called Get Out Of That Pit) and in it the author encourages us to take time to really, REALLY confess our sins. Not just the “forgive me Father for I have sinned” sort of confession, but really REALLY taking a dedicated time – on your face – just pure, pure confession.


Even the sins you think He doesn’t see.

And to you all, I will confess, that though I tried to have one of those experiences, I don’t know, it just didn’t happen for me. It certainly wasn’t like I didn’t have sins to confess, good heavens, quite the opposite! But… I don’t know… Certainly I confess my sins, but to have one of those purely cleansing moments, where afterward you feel nearly giddy and light and


Yeah that’s it.

Saturday, I had one of those experiences. I knew I had unconfessed sins in my life. I had been struggling with them for a time and I was at the point of just not caring. It was easier to wallow in the sin than it was to confess them. Because, after all, I knew that it was those sins that kept God from blessing me, knew that God was punishing me for my sins. I felt unworthy, unlovable, unclean. And I felt like there was nothing I could do about it. Right?

Dang, Satan’s good, huh?

Saturday morning I talked with a good friend. He was telling me about a conversation he was going to have with a mutual friend that day. I knew I needed to pray for that conversation and for that friend. But I couldn’t. I hadn’t been able to really pray for that friend for weeks. And I realized it had nothing to do with that friend, it had everything to do with me. (This is one time when it truly is all about me.)

So I hung up the phone and fell to my knees. There were moments when I didn’t think I could get out what I wanted to say to God fast enough. And there were moments when all I could do was just cry out. Cry out for His forgiveness. Cry out for His mercy. Cry out for His grace.

And it happened.

I felt giddy. I don’t mean that “holy laughter” type of giddiness. Just purely giddy from experiencing His forgiveness.

I felt light. I felt like I had taken off this enormous amount of weight off my shoulders and out of my heart. If I wasn’t such a white girl, I would have danced.

I felt clean.

And I was.

And I could finally, FINALLY pray for that friend. And mean it. From my heart really, REALLY mean it.

I know, and I try to, daily confess my sins. But I also realize that there are times in my life where that isn’t enough. That sometimes I need to get on my knees and with a heart so humbled and so broken that all I can do is cry out.

And let Him take care of the rest.

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