It usually does not feel like a big deal in the moment. You are talking to someone every day. It feels like a relationship. You act like you are together. But when the question comes up what are we, you dodge it. Not because you do not care, but because defining it feels risky. What if it changes things. What if it costs you something. So you delay. And nothing explodes. Life keeps moving. It even feels easier this way. Until one day, you realize something important quietly slipped through your hands. That is how passivity works. It rarely looks dangerous at first. It feels safe. It feels like keeping your options open. But over time, it begins to shape your life in ways you never intended. Passivity is not doing nothing about something that does not matter. It is doing nothing about something that does. It is choosing not to choose when a decision is actually required. Most of us are not passive across the board. We are often highly driven in the areas we care about. We plan our careers. We optimize our schedules. We chase opportunities. But at the same time, we drift in areas that matter more than we want to admit. Relationships. Character. Faith. We tend to be passive in the areas that matter most. Sometimes it is because something does not feel urgent. Other times it is because making a decision takes courage. Decisions close doors. They expose us. They force us to deal with consequences. So we tell ourselves we will deal with it later. You can see this pattern everywhere. In relationships that stay undefined. In majors that remain undecided. In life directions that stay open ended. We are overwhelmed by options and afraid of choosing wrong, so we do not choose at all. Indecision feels like safety. But there are some things in life that are too important to delay. Some decisions demand a response. And when it comes to Jesus, passivity is not neutral. To see this clearly, we need to step into a moment that was anything but neutral. Pontius Pilate stood at the center of one of the most volatile situations in the ancient world. As the Roman governor of Judea, his job was to maintain order in a region constantly on the edge of unrest. The Jewish people lived under Roman rule and longed for freedom. There was a history of rebellion. Religious leaders held deep influence. Rome demanded control. And now it was Passover. The city of Jerusalem was packed. The air was charged with national longing and political tension. This was the time when people remembered deliverance from oppression. It was not hard to imagine how quickly things could turn into revolt. Then Jesus entered the city to crowds shouting for salvation. From a political standpoint, everything was unstable. And then Jesus was brought before Pilate. At first, Pilate approaches it like any other case. He asks if Jesus is the king of the Jews. It is a political question, the kind he is used to asking. But Jesus does something unexpected. He turns the conversation. He asks whether that question is Pilate’s own or something he is simply repeating. In a moment, the dynamic shifts. Pilate is no longer just evaluating Jesus. He is being evaluated. Jesus tells him that he came into the world to bear witness to the truth, and that everyone who belongs to the truth listens to his voice. Pilate responds with a question that has echoed for centuries. What is truth. But the defining detail is not the question. It is what he does next. He does not wait for an answer. He walks back out to the crowd. Not rejection. Avoidance. Pilate is not uninterested in truth. He simply has no room for it. There are too many pressures. Too many expectations. Too much at stake. In that moment, truth feels less urgent than survival. It is not hard to see ourselves in him. We may not be governors, but our lives are full. Classes, jobs, internships, friendships, expectations. Many of us feel like we are barely keeping up. And in the middle of all of it, Jesus speaks about truth. About who God is. About what actually matters. About life, death, and eternity. And our instinctive response is the same. Not now. Later. When things calm down. But that moment rarely comes. Life does not simplify. It expands. Responsibilities grow. Pressures increase. The idea that there will be a better time to deal with ultimate questions is often a myth. Pilate shows us where delay leads. From that point on, he begins moving back and forth. Inside with Jesus. Outside with the crowd. Inside, he is confronted with truth. Outside, he is surrounded by pressure. Each time he steps away from Jesus, the noise grows louder. The tension rises. The cost of doing what is right becomes clearer. And something subtle begins to happen. The louder the crowd becomes, the quieter the truth sounds. You can feel this in your own life. The constant noise. Notifications. Opinions. Expectations. The pressure to keep up, to fit in, to succeed. It does not usually argue directly against truth. It simply drowns it out. Until eventually, you can barely hear it at all. In the end, Pilate tries to escape the decision. He attempts to hand responsibility over to the crowd. But the crowd has already been influenced. The momentum has already shifted. Then the decisive pressure comes. If he releases Jesus, he risks everything. His position. His reputation. Possibly his life. The cost becomes too high. So he gives in. He publicly washes his hands as if to declare his innocence. He tries to separate himself from what is happening. He tells himself it is not his responsibility. And then he hands Jesus over to be crucified. An innocent man condemned. A decision shaped not by truth, but by pressure. This is what passivity does. It does not leave you neutral. It slowly moves you in a direction, often without you realizing it, until one day you arrive somewhere you never meant to go. We often believe we can stay undecided about Jesus. That we can revisit the question later. That we can hold a neutral position without consequence. But neutrality is an illusion. There are always forces at work. The pull of comfort. The fear of cost. The influence of culture. If you are not actively moving toward truth, you are drifting away from it. Most people do not abandon faith in a single moment. They drift. Slowly. Quietly. Through a thousand small decisions to delay. A thousand moments of saying not now. But the story does not end with Pilate trying to avoid responsibility. Because at the center of this moment, when everyone else is passing the weight, Jesus does something entirely different. He takes it. Blame moves from person to person. The crowd deflects. The leaders deflect. No one wants to carry the weight of what is happening. It is too heavy. This is what we do as well. We minimize. We justify. We shift responsibility. The weight of our own failure is more than we can bear. But at the cross, Jesus steps forward and says he will carry it. He does not defend himself. He does not redirect blame. He does not say this is not mine. He absorbs it. The injustice. The sin. The weight that everyone else is trying to escape. This is the heart of the gospel. Not that we fix ourselves, but that Jesus takes what we cannot carry. And that changes everything. Because the reason we avoid truth is not just because we are busy. It is because we are afraid of what it will cost us. Afraid of what it will expose. But the one who confronts us with truth is the same one who offers to carry our burden. Which means we do not have to run anymore. We do not have to delay. We can face the truth because we are not facing it alone. So the question remains. What will you do with Jesus. You do not drift into following him. You only drift away. Pilate thought he could deal with it later. But later never came. And many of us are doing the same thing. Not rejecting. Just delaying. But delaying your decision about Jesus is your decision about Jesus. So do not walk away. Do not wait for a less busy season that will never arrive. The moment is now. What will you do with him. © 2026 David Jun. Want more content like this? Explore more articles in Knowing God.

We all have these thoughts: Am I going to lose my job? How will I pay my bills? Will my groceries last all week? What if the test results are positive? Am I good enough? Do they even like me? These thoughts can quickly become persistent worries. They can paralyze you. For some, the weight is heavier than for others, but regardless, worry steals from your present and robs your tomorrow before it even arrives. This is different from the normal day-to-day issues that naturally cause concern. Persistent worry can keep us in an unhealthy state of mind. Over time, it grows into anxiety, manifesting itself physically within our bodies and makes us sick. Concern is acknowledging that something is happening now or could potentially happen in real time. Concern is natural; it is a safety system God placed within us. We can take those concerns to God and seek His guidance, wisdom, and solutions before they turn into persistent worry and anxiety, before they become thoughts that offer no peace, no answers, and no direction. We can stop that anxiety cycle. No matter the situation, who is at fault, or how big or small the mountain before you may seem, you can lay it before Him. He will walk with you through it and never leave your side. Let Him in, and let Him carry those burdens and keep your tomorrow's. “For God gave us not a spirit of fearfulness; but of power and love and discipline.”~ 2 Timothy 1:7 “Humble yourselves therefore under the mighty hand of God, that he may exalt you in due time; casting all your anxiety upon him, because he careth for you.”~1 Peter 5:6–7 “Jehovah will fight for you, and ye shall hold your peace.”~ Exodus 14:14 “Be still, and know that I am God […]”~ Psalms 46:10 © 2025/26 Jane Isley. Want more content like this? Explore more articles in Knowing God. Press Ctrl + P (Windows) or Cmd + P (Mac) to print this article or save it as a PDF.

My response to a beautifully written half truth An interesting article made its way into my feed recently, penned by a well-known writer here on Medium. He’s a clever author, eloquent wordsmith and a vocal deconstructionist. I have no beef with him personally, but I do want to set the record straight on a few points for anyone else who might have read it and fallen victim to a beautifully written half truth. The piece in particular dealt with the “real” nature of sin, as he explained it. Here is my response, difficult as it was to write. What if Sin IS What You Think it is? If you ask 1,000 people what sin is, you’ll probably get 1,000 different answers. Why? Because the enemy has been working since the Fall of Man to convince humankind that we aren’t sinners, or at least that we aren’t that bad. You see, if he can convince us that we are pretty good or that our sin isn’t our fault, we can be more easily deceived into believing we don’t need a savior. Or worse, that we can save ourselves. He makes evil look holy and lures us in with crafty lies packaged as articles meant to elicit an emotional response. Friend, don’t buy it. One of the major lies in the article is that sin isn’t our fault, but rather a result of our less-than-ideal childhood, our trauma, our generational curses, our… fill in the blank. Are past hurts painful? Of course! I’ve got them myself. But here’s the thing: Trauma doesn’t cause our sin. Our sin nature causes our sin and we use our trauma to justify it. I’m not saying we shouldn’t work through our trauma or put off healing. I’m saying we can’t use our trauma to justify our sin. Sin is disobedience to God, whether big or small. Our flesh craves it, and our spirit fights against it. It’s a spiritual battle we’ll fight until the day Jesus calls us home. What about the generational stuff? Another point in the article is that a lot of our sin is the result of generational wounds that aren’t healed. Is there some truth in that? Perhaps. But the statement in and of itself is not truth. We see repeated sin patterns throughout Scripture & in our own family trees today. While they may look different (abuse here, pride there, alcoholism over there), the root cause is always the same: Disobedience to God. The article cited examples of Jesus healing and inviting sinners to him, to sit with them as they worked through their pasts. While I don’t disagree, there’s so much more to it than that. God absolutely does want us to break generational cycles of sin. We see it all throughout the Old Testament with the Israelites. The Lord brought the 12 tribes out of exile so many times, only for them to return to old patterns of sin and wind up back in exile, waiting for God to raise up yet another cycle-breaker to set them free. Fast forward to the ultimate cycle-breaker, Jesus Christ. He came to set us all free from the bondage of sin. He came to redeem us from slavery. He came to seek and to save that which was lost. Jesus didn’t come merely to sit beside us while we wallow in our past. He came to free us from the past, and to help us put aside the behaviors we justify with it. But what about the really painful “psychological bruises?” First, don’t hear what I’m not saying. I’m truly, deeply sorry that there are so many in this world who suffer at the hands of the ones who should love them most. My heart grieves for people when I hear stories of egregious familial abuse. However (and please hear the sorrow in my voice as I write this), regardless of how atrocious, evil or gut-wrenching it may have been… we do not have a license to sin because of the ways we have been hurt. Lot tried to offer up his daughters to be abused by the drunk men in town. Joseph was kidnapped and sold into slavery by his brothers. Job lost everything he owned, and almost everyone he loved. The woman at the well had been through five husbands and avoided everyone in town (it may not be explicitly written, but you can’t tell me there wasn’t pain there). Jesus was run out of town, beaten, mocked, mortally betrayed by his close friend, nailed to a cross and killed. Jesus knows this world is hard. He’s felt it. Yet he still calls us to be sanctified. Healing takes time. Jesus understands that and is grieved for you too. He will walk with you every step of the way along your healing journey. He will acknowledge the deeply painful wounds you have suffered. And then he will call you to “go and sin no more.” Why? Why would a loving, gracious God call us to stop sinning when we’re hurting so bad? Because our sin breaks fellowship with him. It also causes bitterness and hardens our hearts when we hold on to sin. By working to sin no more, we’re taking a step towards the joy and happiness we find in Christ! Don’t buy it The enemy is crafty. He pretends to be good, and tries to sell us half-truths as whole-truths. He invites us to cozy up in our sin because “we just can’t help how we are.” Don’t believe it. Don’t buy the lies he’s selling. Jesus is calling you to repentance, not because he’s mad at you, or wants you to earn your spot in heaven, but because he loves you. He wants a relationship with you. He wants to heal you. Won’t you turn to him? Thanks for reading! If any of this resonated with you, or you’d like to see more content like this, please consider visiting so you’ll never miss out on a post. © Stephanie M

We often hear the phrase “Love the sinner but hate the sin," sometimes worded slightly differently, such as “Hate the sin and love the sinner.” Regardless of the phrasing, it’s repeated so frequently that most of us never stop to ask what it really means, or whether we actually live by it. First, it’s important to note that the phrase isn’t actually in the Bible. It’s a condensed idea derived from Biblical principles, popularized by St. Augustine and later referenced by Mahatma Gandhi. On its own, the concept is sound, but over time it has become quite trite; it’s spoken as a hollow mantra and, worse, as a thinly veiled judgment. Some of the verses this concept is from: “And have mercy on some, who are doubting; save others, snatching them out of the fire; and on some have mercy with fear, hating even the garment polluted by the flesh.” Jude 1:22–23 “Honor all people, love the brotherhood, fear God, honor the king.” 1 Pt 2:17 “But I say to you who hear, love your enemies, do good to those who hate you,” Luke 6:27 “First of all, then, I urge that requests, prayers, intercession, and thanksgiving be made in behalf of all people, for kings and all who are in authority, [..]” 1 Tim 2:1–3 I’m going to bet those stung a wee bit, considering the climate in our society at the moment. Everyone is hating on everyone, and that includes Christians. Here’s what I see daily: people repeating this phrase over and over, but not out of understanding, but as an excuse to nod approvingly at their own assumed “moral superiority,” and then walk away in judgment. Beyond The Words We do not have to condone sin, and before assuming any moral high ground, remember: we are all sinners. But we are called to act differently from the world; the world judges harshly, and we are not to join in that behavior. You need to know, it is ok to look out at the world and feel empathy. But it’s not ok to see someone dressed a certain way and judge them harshly for the path they are taking that leads them away from God. It is not our job to gossip about them behind their backs, wish them harm, or make fun of them; it is not our job to look at them any less than you would the person sitting next to you in a church pew. It is our duty to pray for them. To “love the sinner ”is to extend grace, empathy, and care, even when we disagree or recoil. To “hate the sin” is to reject destructive behavior, but without letting condemnation eclipse compassion. It’s a call to humility, not judgment; to action, not empty repetition. In practice, it means listening more than speaking, helping more than condemning, and reserving space for both truth and mercy. It challenges us to see people as God sees them: flawed, but beloved, worthy of love even when we cannot embrace their choices. Love the sinner, hate the sin, but never let your judgment drown out your mercy. © Jane Isley Thank you for taking the time to read, and please consider supporting my work. Your gift helps keep this work going. You can visit me at Faithful Writers on Medium, where other Christian writers have joined me in sharing the word of God. You can also find me on Facebook.

There is only today, and within it only this moment. A moment can not stretch; it has no way to expand beyond its purpose, it is only this precise moment you are in. Tomorrow is not yet written. We can wonder, we can guess, and we can even make plans because we believe there will be a tomorrow for us. But we do not know the moments we are going to travel through when we wake. The best-laid plans are no match for being with God in the present. When you wake, give your moments over to God. Release your hold on moments you simply do not control. The exact moment you are living in right now is a precious gift from Him to you; don’t squander it by living in the world of tomorrow before it even gets here. Those surrendered moments ease a burden you weren’t meant to carry or control and become His again upon your release. Moments, where He will guide you, carry you, support you, and cherish you. Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own. Matthew 6:34 Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you. 1 Peter 5:7 Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to him, and he will make your paths straight. Proverbs 3: 5–6 Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Matthew 11:28 © Jane Isley

We like to think of identity as something we build. As if we’re the authors of ourselves. But more often than not, identity is something we absorb. We pick it up without realising. From family scripts. From childhood labels. From culture’s loudest voices. From the failures we haven’t made peace with — and the successes we’ve grown addicted to. And when we forget who we are in Christ, the world is more than happy to fill in the blanks. The names we never chose The world doesn’t offer neutral ground. If you don’t know who you are, it will name you. You are your productivity. You are your sexuality. You are your trauma. You are your body. You are your social feed. You are your relationships. You are your past. You are your potential. These messages don’t come in bullet points. They come in algorithms, expectations, Instagram captions, and late-night shame. They’re stitched into the air we breathe. We may never consciously say them out loud. But we act like they’re true — hustling to stay impressive, shrinking to avoid rejection, medicating the ache with distraction or denial. Identity isn’t just emotional. It’s spiritual. This isn’t just a mental health issue. It’s a spiritual battle. Ephesians says we once “followed the ways of this world and the ruler of the kingdom of the air” (2:2). We were dead in our sins. Not confused. Not slightly misaligned. Dead. But God, being rich in mercy, made us alive with Christ. He didn’t just give us a fresh start. He gave us a new self — one that’s being remade in the image of Jesus. The gospel doesn’t merely save us from hell. It saves us from every false identity that threatens to swallow us whole. What Christ says about you In Christ, you are not your worst day. You are not your performance review. You are not your diagnosis. You are not what they said behind your back. You are not your high school reputation or your adulthood imposter syndrome. You are: Chosen (Ephesians 1:4) Adopted (Ephesians 1:5) Redeemed (Ephesians 1:7) Sealed (Ephesians 1:13) Raised up (Ephesians 2:6) Created in Christ Jesus for good works (Ephesians 2:10) This isn’t motivational fluff. These are spiritual realities — anchored in God’s eternal love, secured by Jesus’ blood, guaranteed by the Spirit’s seal. You don’t have to earn these names. You just have to remember them. Why remembering matters It’s no accident that the New Testament is full of identity language. “Put on the new self.”“Consider yourselves dead to sin.”“Be who you are in Christ.” That’s the call again and again. Not just to believe — but to remember. Because we are forgetful people. And forgetful people are vulnerable people. When we forget who we are in Christ, we reach for whatever identity offers the most comfort, the most affirmation, the least friction. And usually, those identities feel good — until they break under pressure. Until the metrics change. Until the applause stops. Until the loneliness catches up. Identity that holds When your identity is in Christ, it doesn’t mean you never struggle. But it means your struggle has context — and your value has already been decided. You don’t have to perform for love. You don’t have to prove you matter. You don’t have to chase belonging like it’s a prize you could lose. In Christ, you are secure. That means when you fail, you’re still forgiven. When you succeed, you’re still humble. When you’re forgotten by others, you’re still known by God. When the labels come, “lazy,” “too much,” “not enough,” “unlovable," they no longer have the final word. Becoming who you already are Christian growth is not about becoming someone else. It’s about becoming who you already are in Christ. It’s not self-improvement. It’s Spirit-led transformation. It’s not becoming your best self. It’s being conformed to the image of Jesus. It’s not living out of fear. It’s walking in the freedom of a name that can’t be revoked. This is not just a message for new believers. It’s for all of us. Because in a noisy world, even the most grounded Christian can lose their footing. Even the most “mature” believer can forget the names they’ve already been given. If you’ve ever found yourself asking, “Who am I, really?," you’re not alone. That question isn’t a weakness. It’s a signal. It means you’re paying attention. It means you’re hungry for truth. It means you’re ready to silence the noise and return to the only voice that really matters. If that’s where you are right now, I created something that might help. If you’re looking to slow down and remember.. There’s a lot of noise out there — and it’s easy to forget what’s most true. If you’re in a season where identity feels blurred, or if you simply want space to reflect on who you are in Christ, you might find this helpful. I’ve created a 30-day printable devotional called Identity in Christ. Each day invites you to pause, open Scripture, reflect, and pray. It’s simple, unhurried, and rooted in truth that doesn’t shift with the moment. No pressure. Just an invitation. © Nathan Cole Download Your Devotional Here

What can I say, I love me some good ole Psalms, and I feel this one should be said as often as Psalms 23. “I lift up my eyes to the mountains — where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth. He will not let your foot slip — he who watches over you will not slumber; indeed, he who watches over Israel will neither slumber nor sleep. The Lord watches over you — the Lord is your shade at your right hand; the sun will not harm you by day, nor the moon by night. The Lord will keep you from all harm — he will watch over your life; the Lord will watch over your coming and going both now and forevermore.” This ☝ ️is a steadfast reminder of where our true help comes from. We are called to recognize that our strength and protection do not originate from anything in the world around us, but from God and only God. If you're facing uncertainty or bracing to go headlong into a storm, this passage will point you toward God and remind you that you are never alone. Constant vigilance over His people. “The Lord watches over you” He never sleeps; think about that. Eyes always watching, always guiding, always steps ahead of us to protect us. His presence is our continual safeguard. Let Him in, so you can rest. Let Him take charge, let Him protect you and guide you. Take a step backwards into His presence and His arms and just be.God’s care is perfect, extensive beyond what we can comprehend, and everlasting. He is watching over our lives and every piece of our journeys. So right-click this image 👇 and save it where you’ll always be able to see it. AI created so your free to save this.

It can’t get any simpler than that. It doesn’t matter if you are an oldie in the faith or a newbie. This question will always remain the same. This is about the most profound question a Christian will face, and how you answer says everything. There is no… Yes, I do, but! or any other verb or adjective that could possibly follow that yes. In my journey, I have asked myself a lot of questions, battled with myself internally many times, learned and then relearned many concepts, had little faith, had a lot of faith, and I’ve even been angry with God. One day, I was faced with one of my biggest storms, and I had no choice but to face this question head-on. I couldn’t skirt around it; I couldn’t “back burner” it any longer. Once faced with it, it wasn’t going anywhere. The Holy Spirit made sure of that. I was being convicted to make a choice. I thought, I prayed, I fought with myself, and I prayed some more. Then one day I chose. My answer was yes. Such a simple answer said in an emotional whisper, but also the most complex answer I have ever had to give. My life and journey have never been the same since. The growth, guidance, love, and peace since then have been profound. You either trust God, or you don’t. There is never an in-between. © Jane Isley Thank you for taking the time to read, and please consider supporting my work. Your gift helps keep this work going, blesses others, and means the world to me. You can visit me at Faithful Writers on Medium, where other Christian writers have joined me in sharing the word of God. You can also find me on Facebook.

He tilted his head back, swallowing the cold, creamy milk. Within seconds, the entire glass was empty. “Were you thirsty?” I laughed. “I guess I forgot how much I like milk! At college, I really haven’t been drinking milk. I think because I grew up drinking milk, I figured everybody else did too, but people at college don’t do things the way we do, Mom. I think we’re different.” That’s an understatement, I thought. “What else is different? Is there anything I didn’t teach you when you were homeschooled that would have been helpful in college?” “Yes!” “Really? Like what?” “Like swear words! Mom, it felt like I landed on a different planet and didn’t know the language for my first few days in the dorms. I kept typing 4-letter words into my phone to figure out what they meant. I understand why we don’t use them, but it would have been helpful to be prepared and at least know they existed.” Good feedback from my wise son. He was a freshman in college eight years ago. If he were leaving for college this year, that conversation would have never happened. Why? Because expletives have become the norm. I hear inappropriate language while choosing produce at the grocery store, pumping gas, talking to my neighbor, and listening to politicians. What used to be reserved for rogue members of society has now infected portions of the population who would have never before considered using foul language. So why do people swear? I asked AI, which actually had a lot of positive character qualities regarding people who like to cuss. “People who swear frequently are often found to be more honest, expressive, and potentially more creative. They may also be more extraverted and have a more relaxed attitude towards social norms.” Hmm. That’s very gracious, and not what I expected. But AI is not God. Does God give us any standards for language? “Let there be no filthiness nor foolish talk nor crude joking, which are out of place, but instead let there be thanksgiving.” (Ephesians 5:4) “Let no corrupting talk come out of your mouths, but only such as is good for building up, as fits the occasion, that it may give grace to those who hear.” (Ephesians 4:29) “If then you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is…rid yourselves of all of them: anger, wrath, malice, slander, and obscene speech from your mouth.(Colossians 3:1, 3:8) The comparison here is: Filthy talk vs. Thanksgiving Corrupting talk vs. Grace-filled speech Obscene talk vs. Seeking Christ If we are filled with thanksgiving, grace, and Jesus, then obscenities will not be loosely flying from our lips. "Out of the abundance of the heart his mouth speaks.” (Luke 6:45b) What is the overflow of your heart? It will be evidenced by the words you speak. If you are struggling in this area, meditate on God’s word until your speech is transformed. Read God’s Word. Memorize God’s Word. Listen to God’s Word. Do it until your life looks like this: God’s Word In - God’s Word Out “Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will.” (Romans 12:2) First published in Pursuing Perfection on Substack by © Tessa Lind, tessalind.substack.com

Too often, Christians let their pasts hold them back from reaching out, teaching, correcting, or evangelizing. They feel they may not be worthy or have any right to speak up on a subject because in the past they either did it or did worse, or they have walked away from God at some point and came back, but don't want to admit that to people for fear they will be looked at as though they aren't "Christian enough." They feel almost hypocritical in a way. But, they are so busy looking backwards that they forgot. “Repent, then, and turn to God, so that your sins may be wiped out, that times of refreshing may come from the Lord,” Acts 3:19 Nothing in your past will ever disqualify you from serving God. Truly, who is better than the redeemed in God to teach, preach, and spread His message? We are walking examples of the depth of God’s love and forgiveness. Here’s my story. I have inflicted horrible hurts with my mouth, I dabbled in drugs, stripped, dated women, had premarital sex, had a child out of wedlock, attempted suicide, was a cutter, dove head first into the occult at one time, completely walked away from God, I have lied, stolen, been cruel, been full of pride, an asshole and cocky as all get up. Did God look at that and disqualify me when I repented? Did He stop my teaching, preaching, writing, or evangelizing? Nope, because God doesn’t call the qualified; He qualifies the called. I repented, and my slate was cleaned. I came out with a heart ready for God to renew it, granted it took a while and a lot of life lessons from my first encounter with God to who I am now. But He was with me every step of the way, and I am completely open about my mistakes when I talk to people. We absolutely owe it to people to be real. You’re not going to be able to Bible-thump or theologically debate everyone into following God. You are going to need to open up at some point and share your struggle, what you learned, and how God grew you. You have some clout behind you; you do not need to have a Ph.D. to talk about stuff. You did it, lived it, and repented; this makes you uniquely qualified to talk about it. But how can you do that if you’re still holding onto shame or guilt? Jesus came and died on that cross that day, for you to have your sins wiped out. Don’t sit there and tell yourself that you are unworthy because you are a sinner; it insults Him and the sacrifice He made for you. Look at these people in the Bible. Paul, Samson, Moses, Abraham, Ruth, Rahab, David, Jonah, Noah, Elijah, Zacchaeus, Mary Magdalene, the Samaritan Woman, Peter, Sarah, Thomas. Every one of them screwed up, sinned, backtracked, and royally blew it, but God wanted them, God used them, God forgave them, and God loved them. If He can forgive Peter, who outright denied Jesus, not once, not twice, but three times, and forgive Paul, who persecuted Christians, why are you holding yourself back from letting God wipe your slate clean and using you? Accept His gift, a slate wiped clean. I go out in the world and talk; I don’t carry the weight of past sins because it has been removed from my shoulders. Don’t give satan a chance to whisper in your ear about that thing you did 5 years ago. Don’t have a conversation with him in your head; don’t give him any power that holds you back. Remember — Your slate is clean! We are the walking examples of the depth of God’s love and forgiveness. © Jane Isley