09 June 2010

Father of lights

I just realized something: being hard on myself is mostly a result of believing my actions save me. I think very often of the mistakes I've made, and until recently, I had the idea that God was Up There shaking his head at my most recent intemperance. Within the last year, helped by Phillip Yancey, God has revealed that "grace" means there's nothing I can do to make God love me more or less. And I've spent the last year attempting to work this into my awareness.
Of course, I must remember the slavery from which I've been brought out, but the effect this retrospection has is not immediately apparent. That is, it doesn't make me depressed, but, compounded by the fact that I didn't escape slavery but was rescued, gives me great joy as I consider an almighty, universe-sustaining God who loves me so.
Also, I'm not saying my many offenses against various individuals are paltry or inconsequential. They aren't. But if on thinking of these offenses I despair of a saving righteousness, I've forgotten that my righteousness is not, in fact, my righteousness. It is Christ's, imputed to me, despite what I've done.

OK, that's not what I sat down to write. I sat down to write about one of my favorite verses and its cross-references. To wit:
Ephesians 5:14 - Awake, thou that sleepest, and arise from the dead, and Christ shall give thee light.
I chose the KJV translation because I love how it puts that last phrase, this imagery of Christ the light-giver. One of my favorite names for God is Father of lights.
Luke 1:78-79 - ...the sunrise shall visit us from on high to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the way of peace.
The light this Sunrise is giving us is peace. I need peace, and my God knows it.
Isaiah 60:1 - Arise, shine, for your light has come, and the glory of the Lord has risen upon you.
Malachi 4:2 - ...but for you who fear my name, the sun of righteousness shall rise with healing in its wings.
Read that last one over and over, Christian, and see if your soul isn't transported. How badly do you want to be healed? To find refuge from devastating pain? To step out of the night and into the sun? Our God knows and is powerful to do it.

1 comment:

Paige Baker said...

This is really moving. I saw it when you posted it but wasn't really in the mood to read it. I'm glad I did now.