Before I left on the race, my big prayer was “break my heart for what breaks Yours.” I even named my blog after it (clearly). I was expecting that this would mean a broken heart for the orphans in Africa and the victims of sex trafficking in Thailand and the gypsy kids in Romania. I never thought that my heart (and His) breaking would include the people who sinned against me. I never thought it would include me.
This past week or so has been one of true brokenness. Byron Bay is a city where I see the old me on every street corner. There are constant reminders of who I was before God intervened. And frankly, that’s been really tough. I was reliving all my mistakes, and all the trespasses committed against me, one by one. And I did not like what I saw. I felt dirty and unworthy, angry and sad and bitter.
But a few nights ago, something in me changed. One of my squadmates preached an awesome message on sin, and for the first time I was able to forgive some of the major sins committed against me. I was able to start the process of forgiving myself, too. It was incredible!!! And I was reminded that Jesus did not die on the cross just to forgive my sins; He died for everyone’s sins! To not forgive someone for something they did to me is in essence saying that what Christ did isn’t enough. I’d be saying, “The cross is enough to cover my sin but not yours. Sorry ’bout your luck.” THAT’S PREPOSTEROUS! Christ offers scandalous grace to any who will receive it! Scandalous because if they ask, He will forgive an adulteress, a murderer, a rapist, the worst of the worst! Scandalous because His grace forgives me and you and your neighbor and that guy you saw on the news.
I’m not gonna lie, this whole true brokenness thing has been painful and not at all fun. And there’s been a time or two this month when I wished I hadn’t prayed that prayer, but it’s beautiful to realize that God’s heart breaks for me. It’s beautiful to realize that God’s heart breaks for all of us.
His heart does break for all of His children, from those kids living in the slums to the housewife in her nice suburban home, from the people going to bed without food tonight to the drunk college kid, from the sexually abused to the hippie in Byron Bay.
And slowly but surely mine is starting to break for all of us too.
