Stained

A few months ago, Jerry did the annual re-staining of the girls' play system out back. I got in the spirit and re-stained a rocker out front. Between the two of us, and the girls, we made quite a mess.

Months later I am still reminded of our staining projects. Stain marks on the swings. Brown streaks on Jerry's work pants. Drips left on the front porch where the newspaper failed. It even tarnished the baby monitor when one of us grabbed it as Jade awoke.

Stain is like my sin. It touches so many things...people...that I don't even intend for it to. The harsh tone I take with the girls. The unkind word spoken to Jerry. The word that I should have left unsaid to my sister. Its affect lasts much longer than the actual act. Reaching further and staying longer than imagined. And even though we clean it up with apologies and try to do better, sometimes the stain remains.

During the month of March, the Bible study that I am apart of studied the book of Exodus. There was much to be pulled from the text, but one thing that kept jumping out at me was how much God HATES sin. Thankfully I usually spend more time amazed about God's grace and mercy and love...than I do wallowing in my shortcomings...but at times I think it is good for me to remember my sin, confess it and remember how much God HATES it.

On this Good Friday, I am so thankful. Thankful that although God hates our sin so much, that he chose to punish Jesus for it instead. Thankful that Jesus not only saved me from my sins, but from the WRATH of a Holy God who cannot stand them.

No longer stained but washed whiter than snow...only by the blood of Jesus.

Forgiven,