No Offense

Sometimes God uses the simple, seemingly insignificant things in life to teach us big lessons. Or to remind us of lessons that we once learned, but haven’t been readily applying. For me, it was the gas line at Costco. And the seemingly huge injustice of being cut in front of as another driver impatiently waited for her line to move.

Now, you are probably wondering, “what lesson could be learned from this trivial act?” Well, as I railed in my head against the gall of this other driver and privately wished that justice would be done and I would in fact get to the pump quicker (which did happen!) I realized how silly it was that I was getting bent out of shape over “my” place in line. My reaction to the other person’s action had the potential to determine my entire attitude for the rest of the day. And I was reminded, this wasn’t something to take offense at. One, because it was ridiculous to let something as benign as that ruin my day, but more importantly, because in comparison against my offense to God, this was ridiculously trivial, as trivial as an ant’s problems seem to me. My offense against Holiness was far greater than a simple inability to take one’s turn, and yet that offense had been forgiven by a holy, yet gracious God. If I was going to be offended, I should be offended by the magnitude of my sin, and amazed at the magnanimity of His forgiveness. This small, Earthly offense should prompt my heart to be filled with thankfulness, humility and awe, not frustration.

Long-time readers will know that this lesson isn’t a new one for me. After all, I’ve written about it in part here and here. However, along with my gratitude for the lesson, I’m thankful that He choose to use the Costco gas line to remind me of it. And that despite all my offense, He longs for a relationship with me and to shower me with the abundance of His grace. The least I can do is wish well those that offend me.

Continue Reading

Inconvenient Truth

I have a memory of the first time I was faced with a decision to tell the truth. There was a shower mat in the bathroom that my sister and I shared. Somewhere along the way, the suction cups at the bottom of the mat had mysteriously begin disappearing and it didn’t take Sherlock Holmes to figure out that either me or my sister had begun pulling them off. Because the memory sticks out so clearly in my head and because I can get bored easily, I think it was probably me. The strange thing about the memory is I’m not completely sure what I said although my guess is that I probably tried to skirt the truth for as long as I could. I think I eventually confessed, but if not, I guess now I have. What I do remember is the sense of importance that I felt was attached to the decision to the the truth or to lie. It’s a moment that comes back to me every time negating the truth seems like the easier option.

Since that moment, I’ve been what many people might consider a staunch defender of the truth. I take deception rather personally, probably more so than I should for ultimately its God that’s grieved as a result, not me. As I’ve gotten older I’ve learned that truth-telling needs to be coupled with discretion, but that truth and justice always stand on the same side. Being vulnerable and being willing to admit things that inconveniently mar the image that we’ve established for ourselves is the shortest path to humility. And humility is necessary to serve God.

What I’ve also learned though is that un-truths are never isolated events. The telling of a lie creates a phenomenon where un-truths are multiplied, sometimes quite unconsciously as people believe that the information we’ve passed on to them is true and they share it with others or make decisions on its basis. Any compromise of God’s law has its price and the price of a lie is often the destruction of relationship. Truth is necessary for trust. Without either, relationships fail.

The good news is that God has made a way that despite our compromises of truth, we can be reconciled to the Truth. In this forgiveness, we find the ability to restore relationships with one another because we recognize that we’ve offended the perfect God to a far greater degree than someone else could ever offend us. This truth may destroy our self-inflated ego, but the peace of reconciliation is worth it.

The truth is often inconvenient to our objectives and our desires, but its never so to God’s. Maybe if we trust His ways a little more we wouldn’t find telling the truth quite so inconvenient.

Continue Reading
1 8 9 10 11 12 17