Skip to main content

For God's sake

"I, even I, am the One who wipes out your transgressions for My own sake, and I will not remember your sins"  - God (Isaiah 43:25) 

This verse stirred up so many emotions in my heart as I read it.
Firstly, I was sorry for what I had done that caused me to sin against God. Secondly, I was aware of my tendency to transgress and that this is not the first time I have felt sorry for it. Thirdly, I was grateful for God's mercy in wiping out my wrongs against Him. Fourthly, I was even more grateful that the reason He has wiped them out is because of Himself. Not me, Him.

Maybe a part of me wants to feel special, maybe I want God to look at my sorry heart and have my sins wiped out because I am sorry. Maybe that is what you want too. Maybe we like to feel that we can earn forgiveness just by being sorry.

Maybe it is our pride. Actually, that IS our pride. This sense of pride demands a right to forgiveness because my heart is contrite, because I have felt the weight of my sins and I don't want to feel this way anymore. But this sense of pride forgets that God owes me nothing. He doesn't have to forgive me if he chooses and He could give me the punishment I deserve -- whether or not I feel bad.

Yes, but God in His mercy has chosen to forgive you and I because of who He is. For His name's sake. And because He had promised to heal the broken-hearted and save those who are contrite in Spirit (see Ps 34:18), He keeps to His word. He forgives us because He will not fail on His word.


That's a much better guarantee of forgiveness than my shedding tears. Yes, His word has said if we confess our sins, He is faithful and righteous to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness (1 John 1:9). He is faithful to His word that He will forgive and He fulfils His word so that no one may defame His name (1 John 2:12).

The glory of His name is the reason I am encouraged when I am convicted of sin; I am assured that He will not dishonour His name by going back on His promise.

(This blogspot was inspired by this article on Desiring God website: http://www.desiringgod.org/articles/the-greatest-love)




Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Prologue- Memoirs of A Skilled Hunter

Dawn was drawing close. The gentle breeze came as a consolation, symphatising with the wild for bearing with the downpour that befell the night. This time, the predator walked along an unusual path, the rays of sun bouncing off the shy green of wet leaves providing a source of illumination to its glowing eyes. It had spotted prey and now it was calculating the next move... I hadn't seen her in ages. I watched intently as she made her way towards me, her hips swinging graciously from side-to-side, her movement emphasized by the frills on her flowery gown, accentuating her hourglass figure. It's been 10 years since I last saw her and it seemed every part of her body, visible to my eyes, had been renovated in heaven time and time again. She had become much more attractive, she was beautiful. The predator studied its prey. Well-hidden by the shadows cast by the tall fruitless trees, it was being careful. Avoiding every broken b...

Uni: Me, Mini-me.

Today is Thursday. I'm dreading the night mainly because of the aftermath- a very messy kitchen, quite smelly corridors and grumpy cleaners. My first semester of Uni, I must say, wasn't at all what I had anticipated. I remember coaching myself mentally, preparing for the hard times to come, having an escape plan in case of a metaphoric fire and a Plan B if that didn’t work. Anyway, as it happened, my plan B wasn't well premeditated, lacking enough detail to guide me through smoky situations. All it had inscribed on it was “RUN”. Thursday nights are Mercy Nights- when students get free entry into an over-hyped nightclub. As that isn’t my cup of tea, I tend to stay indoors, watching a movie or trying to catch up with work- the latter being more frequent. The reason I dread these nights is because my flatmates have a pre-party, a chaotic one, where over 10 people squeeze into our kitchen, blast the music through the roof and scream at the top of their lungs in chants for ...

SimPerfection

Simulated Perfection. A little boy kicked his red mud-stained ball towards me. A little too high the kick was, as the ball bounced off my right knee, leaving a stain that was conspicuous. He ran up to me giggling, a very boisterous one, like he had no clue what he had done. He pointed to the ball, still inattentive to the frown that had formed on my face, which had on it clear signs of tiredness. Before he could say anything, I picked him up and spun him around, his little feet hanging high, drawing wide circles in space. "Mummy, Mummy!" The little boy's older sister ran out of the house to give me a big hug. I dropped him on the ground and squeezed them both tight in a warm embrace. I had missed them and it was obvious that they had eagerly awaited my arrival. Joseph, my 4 year old boy, gave me a slightly wet kiss on my cheek and Deborah, a very smart 7 year old, wasn't slow in noticing the stain on my knee. I exp...