love beyond decree

Shame.

Guilt.

Pain.

As christians, don't we love to comfort those who suffer shame and guilt?

I love to wrap my arms around a broken sister and tell her that Christ died and bore her shame on the cross.

I love watching God work healing and restoration in that person.

We love to comfort God's broken people- those who were broken and beaten down against their will, those who suffered (or suffer) at the hands of another.

It is so easy to love them, and to see them as someone worthy of the Lord's grace- of Christ's precious blood. Someone in need.

We can hear their testimony and cry with them, pray with them, accept them, and love them as part of our own bodies- of Christ's body.

I struggle with shame. I wear it like a concrete chain around my neck.

This morning I escaped to my shower and cried out to God like a madwoman. I asked the Lord to take away my shame and guilt. I asked Him to remind me of His promises, of His Son, of His Spirit, that lives in me. Like a woman split in two, I asked that God would cut out my inner person and cast it as far as the East is from the West. Wrought with guilt I begged God's mercy.

This morning was not unique. I do this often.

There's probably a medical "diagnosis" for the frequent happenings within my shower walls. But if we strip it down to it's naked core, we really just see a battle with self. I do battle against my shame and guilt.

Can you empathize? I know you want to.

But what if I tell you that I'm not a victim? What if I'm not simply a broken, afflicted, oppressed, individual? What if I'm not battling demons caused by some nameless tyrant?

What if I bear the cross of guilt and shame because I'm just plain awful? What if I'm the oppressor? What if I'm the afflicter? What if I'm the angry tyrant?

Cause I am.

I'm hateful. Wrathful. Careless. Insensitive. Impatient. Selfish. And just plain mean.

I am not easy to love... by anyone's definition.

Do you still long to hold my hand and cry with me?

Jesus' blood was not shed for the righteous, but the unrighteous. And he loves the offender as much as the offended.

That is so hard to swallow.

Unless, you see yourself as the offender.

And then, it's beautiful.

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