What God Makes New

Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has gone, the new has come!  (2 Corinthians 5:17)

 

Recently at the grocery store, I ran into someone I had not seen in many years.  I almost missed her, as my distaste for both shopping and crowds often prompts me to zip through the aisles with tunnel vision.  Luckily, I glanced her way, we recognized each other instantly, and we struck up a conversation.  I found myself becoming one of those shoppers that I silently grumble about, taking up time and space in the aisle socializing.  Ah, irony!

 

The lady I met at the grocery was my boss from a drug-store job I held while in college, a job that provided me more of an education about people than my psychology courses ever could.  My boss and I got along wonderfully, which helped us to weather some of the most bizarre and memorable encounters of my life, among them a lonely weekend shift when I unwittingly thwarted an armed robbery.  My boss endured numerous struggles in her life, many of which she shared with me as we stocked shelves.  Unbeknownst to me at the time, she was stealing money from the store in order to address some of those struggles.  Meanwhile, I was a quiet young thing taking classes, saving a little money, and trying to figure out life.  What my boss and I had in common was that God was not a discernable part of our lives.

 

Standing in the cereal aisle at Kroger, I listened patiently as my former boss spoke of the recent death of her husband and other struggles she’d endured.  Through the recounting of the pain of her struggles, I noticed something I had not seen before: a penetrating peace in her eyes and the ease with which she smiled.  After her husband’s death, a young widow’s testimony in church had inspired her to accept Jesus into her life.  Praising God, serving others, and caring for the brokenhearted has become her life’s focus.  With a growing lump in my throat, I longed to tell her how my life had also steered toward God, how God had planted a small seed in me through her all those years earlier, but I didn’t.  The aisle was growing ever more crowded and time was running short.  We hugged and went our separate ways.

 

I have thought about her often since our chance encounter, and what I keep coming back to is this: God works miracles in the lives of those who turn themselves over to Jesus.  She and I both struggled in our own ways, we both fought to be independent, and we both ignored God knocking on our hearts.  How utterly amazing that God made a way for each of us, in our own time, to answer the door to faith in Christ.

 

No matter where we’ve been, what we’ve done, or what we’ve been through; no matter how long we have wallowed in sin and misery, the loving arms of Jesus are always ready to welcome us.  The risen Christ not only saves us from our sins, but He makes each of us a brand new creation.  Thank you, Lord, for loving us that much!

A Light on a Hill

"You are the light of the world.  A town built on a hill cannot be hidden.  Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl.  Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house.  In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven."  (Matthew 5:14-16)

The lists have been written, the commitment is strong, and hopes are high.  New Year's resolutions are wonderful things.  We've identified areas in our lives that need improvement and we resolve to change ourselves for the better.  For some, reading the Bible more, praying more, or attending worship are high on the list of resolutions.  Making God a priority is always good.  After all, scripture tells us to love the Lord with all our heart, mind, soul and strength.  But what happens if we fall short?

A few days after Christmas, an out-of-town friend and her family visited for the afternoon.  These folks are very dear to me, and they are also the only people in my life with whom I'm close who are not Christians.  We've had many open and intriguing discussions about faith over the years.  This year, my friend's husband revealed a probable source of his aversion to the Christian faith.  As a child, he went to a Catholic school for boys.  One of his earliest memories is of a priest showing him a series of three drawings.  The first drawing showed a boy with a pure white circle on his chest and a smile on his face.  The second drawing showed a boy with the same white circle containing a few black spots.  This boy's face had a slightly pained expression.  Finally, the third drawing showed a boy with a white circle covered in black spots.  This boy's face appeared deeply pained.  The circles represented the extent to which each boy's soul was marked by sin.  My friend's husband was told pointedly that the third boy was going to hell, period.  Jesus was never mentioned.  It stands to reason that if a child could be so horribly marked by sin and destined for hell at such a young age, what hope does a grown man have?

We are born sinful creatures and despite our very best intentions, we all fall.  We have all done things that could be illustrated as black spots on the white circles of our souls.  And like the third boy, we should all be destined for an eternity in hell.  Mercifully, God altered that destiny through the grace He offered in His glorious Son, our Lord Jesus Christ.  Because of Christ, our circles are wiped clean, our fate sealed on holy ground.  This grace is not a "get out of jail free card," to be played in order to forget or explain away our misdeeds.  On the contrary, the grace of Christ in the heart of a believer is not just a gift freely given, but it is a calling for our lives.  We are compelled by the Holy Spirit to follow Christ in all that we do, to repent when we fail, and to follow Him anew.

My prayer for 2013 is that the way I live my life will inspire my friend's husband, and others like him, to get to know the Jesus who has saved and enriched my life.  Instead of being a conduit of fear and disdain, like the priest was, I long to be a light on a hill.  That's a resolution worth keeping.