If you’re a mom like I am maybe you have days like I did today. Yesterday evening I was full of good plans. Today was going to be all about my children. Read to them; play with them; instruct them firmly but not in anger; give them grace and mercy all through the day. Maybe, just maybe if I could do that then they might catch a tiny little glimpse of how lovely a thing it is to belong to Christ.
At the end of this day I’m pretty sure if there were prizes for worst.mother.ever I would get the gold. Anger, impatience, frustration, passing over the desires of my children in order to coddle myself. I listen to my son laughing hysterically at his daddy and am thankful we had someone to come home and put things to right again.
How is it possible that the Lord uses such appallingly weak people to convey His love and mercy? My best moments were when I was asking forgiveness from my two year old. I’m learning to do that much more often than I ever thought I would have to.
Why does He allow me to labor on in my mothering with this terrible disease of sin eating away at me – calling me to selfishness and pride at every turn. Why does He not simply take away my sin and fill me with nothing but love for my children? That would seem to accomplish His purposes far more successfully.
I have had a new thought lately that is taking firm hold in my heart and leaving me wondering again at the mystery of a God so far above us that we will never comprehend His ways.
I think He wants to teach us to hate our sin more than He wants to remove it from us.
Of course the battle against sin will and must lead to greater righteousness, but it seems that those men and women who are the most gracious, the most loving, the most holy and upright are the ones who truly consider themselves the worst of all. Perhaps because they are not rid of sin, but because they have learned to hate it. This is a kind of hatred that I only nibble at from time to time.
And if hatred of sin is God’s purpose for us then in the end He will have to give us refuge because hatred of something must then be filled over and cured and comforted by love of something else. Or rather Someone Else.
I guess in the end God is more interested in Christ-lovers than the morally upright even though the former must, over time, produce the latter. I find myself to be neither. But I know I want to love Christ. I know I begin to hate my sin. I guess that’s a start.