And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds, not giving up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but encouraging one another–and all the more as you see the Day approaching.
Hebrews 10:24-25
I studied this verse during my quiet time on Tuesday morning, unaware of how directly and immediately God was going to apply it in my life.
I’ll be honest: this past week has been really, really hard. My whole apartment is struggling under the pressure of our senior theses, which are coming due all too soon. Health concerns, real or imagined, are magnified tenfold by the stress we’re all feeling. A string of snow days a few weeks ago was fun at the time, but has thrown us off schedule, a problem that was only exacerbated by the crippling and destructive ice storm our region experienced on Friday. Toss in some major confession of sin and heavy conversations with accountability partners, and what was a hard week to begin with became quite painful.
The wonderful part is that God is good. He is always good, he is so good, he is absolutely good. And he kicked off my week with a beautiful display of his goodness. I spent a long weekend in Savannah, GA for an English conference. It was a lovely time-out-of-time, full of good conversation and great friends. In the midst of it, the Lord surprised me with an opportunity to meet Helena, a World Racer whose blogs I’ve been following for a year, in person! It was the first time I’ve gotten to meet a Race alum (and proof for my parents that World Racers do come back alive!). I also got a call from a friend I hadn’t talked to for a few months and was encouraged by more donations to my support account. I came back from the weekend feeling rested, refreshed and fulfilled, overwhelmed by God’s display of his love.
Then came Monday and I clung to those proofs of his goodness as it felt like my little world crashed down around me. A long-term sin battle reared its ugly head again, and this time God allowed me to feel the consequences of my disobedience. I faltered and floundered, gasping in relief when the day ended and I could finally have a good cry. My sin and the general fiasco of the day overwhelmed me with brokenness and repentance and discouragement.
Spurring: provoking, encouraging, reminding, prodding, I wrote in my journal on Tuesday morning as I studied Hebrews 10:24-25. I imagined a rider kicking his spurs into a horses side. Meant well, but not guaranteed to be comfortable.
That afternoon, I went to lunch with one of my dear friends, roommates and accountability partners, and soon my brokenness over the previous day poured out. I shared my frustration, bordering on despair, with an issue I’d been struggling with for years. Tears were shed as I finally named the sin directly, identifying and acknowledging it head-on rather than beating around the bush about it, as I’d been doing for months. More tears flowed when I described to her the bitter shame I felt over it. I wiped them away with a napkin, embarrassed to be crying when surrounded by groups of students cheerily eating lunch.
Meant well, but not guaranteed to be comfortable.
As I sat in dismay, seeing only my sin and pain, she reminded me of the gospel, the finished work of the cross. And then she spurred me on towards love and good deeds, suggesting strategies for the fight, offering her aid wherever possible, and giving me back my hope.
That evening, I went to a Bible study where we discussed the importance of the spiritual disciplines: in this case, listening to, reading and studying the Word of God. Then, later, I went to Intervarsity. I entered the room worn out by the heavy emotions and deep hurt Id experienced in the past couple of days. I wondered whether I should even come, or whether I really just needed to go back to my apartment, journal and have another cry. As I sat, I prayed silently, God, I have nothing right now. I am so broken, and I have nothing to give you. I need you. Please show up and speak to me, because I need to be in your presence.
And did he ever! After fantastic worship, the speaker stood up. Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil: Matthew 6:4, she read before diving into a talk about temptation and deliverance, sin and accountability that spoke directly into my experience of the past two days. Check, check, check, I thought as she described the importance of accountability partners and the practicals of what that relationship should involve.
I nodded along as she told us to share our triggers to sin, encourage each other with forgiveness, and practice the spiritual disciplines, thereby filling our lives with meaningful things so that we no longer turn to the sin.
I breathed a sigh of relief as she directed us to Hebrews 4:14-16, reminding us that JESUS UNDERSTANDS our temptation to sin, and that Gods countenance of love towards us does not change.
And I grinned as she warned us not to hide our sin in secrecy, which Satan loves, but to bring it into the light. As Dumbledore tells Harry about You-Know-Who, Call him Voldemort. Always use the proper name for things. Fear of a name increases fear of the thing itself. I recalled my tears at lunch as she told us, You have to name your sin! If you cannot say it out loud, it will rule over you. But talking about sin can bring freedom.
That night in my journal, I reflected once again on the goodness of God. Even in the midst of my fiasco-ridden Monday, I had rejoiced in the truth that God will not let his children remain in sin. I am his, and he has committed to sanctifying me. I am broken and flawed and riddled with sin, and I am far too weak to fight it on my own. But God loves me so much that he will not leave me where I am, but will weed out every last trace of unholiness in me until I am pure and perfect and holy like him. Paul says in Philippians 1:6 that he is confident of this, that he who began a good work in you will carry it to completion until the day of Christ Jesus. Understood from that perspective, the sanctifying events of Monday and Tuesday were actually an expression of God’s great love for me.
Not only that, but Hebrews 12:4-13 reminded me how to receive Gods discipline. Verse 11 encouraged me that my pain was for a purpose, for No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it. Right now, I’m in the pain, but I’m looking forward with hope to the righteousness and peace to come.
Because God is good all the time. Even when I’m drowning, even when I’m overwhelmed and crying out in weakness and despair, his goodness doesn’t change. I rejoice in his perfect process and timing, opening the week with tangible reminders of his goodness before leading me into challenging sanctification. I rejoice in his continued reminders of his goodness and the way that even in the midst of the struggle, he’s peppered this week with beautiful blessings: fellowship with friends, good news about health concerns, incredible donations and loving support for the Race, and fun times of rest. And I rejoice that HE HAS WON the war, and he will use my battle against sin to display his victory and glory.
The battle isn’t over; the sin isn’t gone; my struggle isn’t done. All the mourning over sin, the shame, the panic, the despair, the hurt, the physical discomfort, the stress, the terror, the worry–and on the flip side, God’s goodness, the beauty of community, being in God’s presence, wonderful worship, the gift of the very best friendships, forgiveness, grace, love, hope, joy, faith, comfort–all the emotions I experienced this past week are still overwhelming. But I am forgiven, I am loved, God is good, and Jesus is on my side.
Hallelujah, we are free to struggle.
We’re not struggling to be free!
Your blood bought and makes us children.
Children, drop your chains and sing!
