Do you see it? I’ve seen it. 

The helplessness is like standing over the barely breathing form of a loved one, slowly slipping away. It’s the ache of staring at the no longer stirring forms after they’ve gone. Except I’ve done it. I’ve skipped into the room of my beloved, and twirled on my heel as I pulled the pillow from underneath their head and pushed it down over their face.
10:12:00 PM
For years, I’ve been saying that I’m a sinner. But I don’t think people have really believed me. When I say that, I’m not giving you a half-smile and a wink. It's not a necessary pretense. No, I need the new nature that Christ has given me, the Holy Spirit forming me into his image. I need the resurrection work of God, because I am just as apt to fall to temptation as anyone else. 

And I often do.

To be clear, I want to please God. I want to love more. I want to forgive more. I want to think more of you than I do of myself. But you could find out my secrets tomorrow. Not the socially acceptable stuff, either. My closet of skeletons could break open under the weight of my sin and spill out for all to see. And, if that happens (and it could happen to any of us) I want to remind you that I told you so.

I don’t say that as some kind of excuse. I’m ashamed of my mistakes. I say it because I’m irrelevant. 

I don’t tell you God loves me because I’m hiding something. I don’t tell you God loves me as an excuse to hide my sin. I tell you God loves me in spite of knowing the depths of my sin. Because I know it’s true. Because, without the truth that while we were still dead in our sin, Jesus died for us, I’d either be trying to convince myself that I’m not as in need of forgiveness as I am or a cowering, devastated mess. I tell you because God loves you too.

In spite of ourselves, we’re loved. Imperfect messengers are all there are, and imperfect messengers don’t lessen the truth of the message. Not when the message is that we are weak, imperfect messengers loved by a kind, gracious God.
6:12:00 PM
I stopped my thoughts before they escaped into words, checking their pockets for hidden slights or contraband foolishness. I might not even say them at all... Just to be safe. There was too much chance they might offend. And who knows what would happen to the eternal soul of some poor listener if I unwittingly ruined the Good News of God with some imperfect pronunciation?

My actions went through the same rigor. I scrupulously weighed them in light of how they might affect my witness to God. I had come to believe that I was the only bible some people would ever read, and that weight was enormous. In my mind, how well I seemed to keep the imperatives of the bible (and those inferred and tacked on by various other Christians for good measure) was indicative of how many people I could lead to Jesus. 

I wish someone had told me that my goodness wasn’t the Good News. 

4:05:00 PM
If I didn’t know God; if I were among those who hadn’t tasted the Bread of Life and so knew the upside-down wonderfully crazy love of Jesus, I know I wouldn’t want to be a part of this religion. I see it just like everyone else—the hate and anger, the self-righteousness and illogically applied beliefs that counter what the bible actually says. I don’t see the Jesus I know in that stuff. I don’t experience the warmth of the fire that would draw me in from the cold, cold loneliness of the world.

So, it’s not surprising that a new Pew Report showed that people identifying as Christians is in decline. 

5:07:00 AM
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