A Sure Foundation

When was the last time you wrote a letter?

I’d have to say my day improved immeasurably when I got home and turned my underpants around.  The trip to the store had been quick, yet surprisingly uncomfortable.  When I heard the front door click as my husband left for work, I decided to run to the store before the girls woke up.  Bumping around the bedroom, I grabbed my husband’s sweat shirt threw on knickers and a skirt, stepped into flip flops and jumped into the car.

The first indication something was horridly wrong came when I got out the car to grab a cart.  Sensing a strange imbalance in coverage, I hopped and wiggled hoping a quick shimmy would fix the problem.  It didn’t.  About that moment, standing in Fred’s, I came to full consciousness and realized what I had done.  There are dark moments in everyone’s life and I have to confess I was struck with a sense of hopelessness about my future.  Why had my creator made me so fearfully and wonderfully?  Was my entire life’s purpose to serve merely as a warning to others?*

My phone rang.

“Hey there!  I didn’t expect to get you this early.”  It was Judith, my friend in Victoria.  I’ve known her for about 25 years.  “I’m really glad I caught you.  What are you doing?”

“Well truthfully, I’m shopping for milk before the girls wake up.  I’m at the store and my skivvies are on backwards so I’m pretty uncomfortable and impressed with myself right now.”

Judith gave a few moments of respectful silence before she said, “I beg your pardon.” 

This was the point I wondered why I view relational transparency a virtue.  No idea why I shared, but I think it was because I figured she might be as impressed with my idiocy as I was.  I can’t explain myself; I’m just trying to survive.  The wise among us would leave this anecdote alone and not venture application lest something go awry in Christendom.  However, I would like you to bravely hold the ground of foundation garments while I run over to the next paragraph and tell you another story. 

I wrote a letter this week, to someone I like.  She has great hair but that isn’t why I wrote the letter.  I wrote the letter because her heart is burdened by a situation in her life and I wanted her to know I think she is amazing.  She is praying for a loved one who is in rebellion against everyone who breathes.  In order to be aesthetically pleasing I bought expensive paper with matching envelopes and even broke out my fountain pen.  As I wrote the letter, I was stuck by a sentence I penned in the middle of the note.  (A word to my pagan friends – I’m going to go hard core Christianese for a minute, bear with me.)

This was my sentence:

Being profoundly aware of sin, yet praying for Jesus’ mercy is such a victorious place to be.

My dear friend was crippled by the wrongdoing of her loved one and to every responsible step she knew how to take, she added prayer, yet she was feeling ineffective.  My point was, when you are overwhelmed by sin, praying to God for mercy is effective and a wise thing to do.  We believe that there is mercy for those who are aware they have done wrong; prayers of repentance are heard and accepted by God.  Without our repentance and God’s forgiveness through Jesus, it isn’t Christianity.  It is in fact, one of the foundations of our faith.

If repentance isn’t part of your faith walk, your foundation is off. 

Allegorically, if you know your knickers are on backwards you’re going to be uncomfortable until you get things straight.  Same with sin, distract yourself all you want: wiggle hop and shimmy but until you repent and get those things turned around, you’re going to be uncomfortable and that’s a good thing.  Sin is real.  Repentance is a gift.  Forgiveness is divine. 

So I’m praying for my friend with the winning theology and great hair. I’m praying for those of us who are uncomfortable and need to make some changes: for those who want to turn things around and need the gift of repentance and for all those who are in need of forgiveness.

I’m praying something major gets healed this week.

XoxKaren

PS.  It is Father’s Day!  This is not a Father’s Day entry.  Or maybe it is.  Call your Dad before the sun goes down if you can’t do that, draw a picture of him and post it on your fridge. 

*I wish that were mine but it’s on a demotivational poster at despair.com