Unfortunately, I am reminded everyday that I am a sinner saved by grace by the simple fact that the above statement shared by Mr. Bunny is my natural tendency. No, Mr. Ray Comfort, I am not a good person.

The love of Jesus is amazing. He watches us mess up again and again, and His love is just as overwhelming and unfailing the last time we fail as it was the first.

I, on the other hand, ask like Peter did, "uh, Lord, how many times do I have to watch people make the same mistake before I can just cross them off my list? How many times do I have to pretend that I believe the facade they present." And, He gently reminds me that He keeps me on His list.

1 Peter 4:7 says to be "clear minded and self-controlled so that [I] can pray." I cannot allow my mind to be infiltrated by resentfulness, confusion, or trying to figure out why people do what they do. I cannot act on my fleshly tendencies to want to behave in an unChrist-like manner based on what other people do. I have to pray for myself and others. I can't pray unless I am "clear-minded and self-controlled."

1 Peter 4:8 says "Above all, love each other deeply, because love covers over a multitude of sins." The Scripture doesn't give me a list of people I should love deeply, or "fervently" as the KJV says. Nope, I can't choose to love only certain people. I am just called to love. In loving like Jesus, we cover over sin!? Wow. The love of Jesus is perfect. It is, as Shelly read in Lifegroup, 1Corinthians 13. The question is not can I do it, but will I do it? (Because His Word says I can) If I want perfect peace, If I want to see my brothers and sisters in Christ in perfect peace, I have to love. I have to constantly lay my natural tendencies at His feet because He is searching my heart and my mind and He, the almighty God of everything, the One who truly covers over my sin, He knows my motives (1Chronicles28:9) He sees right through the facade. That strikes the fear of God in me.

CONVICTED

Our justice system sometimes convicts people for things they did not do. But when the Holy Spirit convicts, no jury is needed. If you are feeling the conviction of the Holy Spirit, you may as well stop running from it because there is no doubt that you are guilty. Ouch. Why does it sting so bad? I think it's that in being convicted by God you know what He is showing you is truth. And it hurts to admit that we have been wrong. We don't want to admit that we have flaws, or atleast I don't. It's easy to look at somebody else and see their imperfections, but when the finger is pointed at ourself, we like to look over our shoulder and avoid it.

So that's how I felt last week when God grabbed ahold of me as I read some random blog. By the time I got to the end of said random blog, I was wiping away tears of conviction, remorse and sadness. Now, I don't expect everyone felt this way after reading it, but the young man in her recount made me instantly think of my husband. Graham is that man everywhere he goes--always looking for a way to help. The author's explanation of how the young man's simple gesture affected her so deeply made me feel so ugly as so many times I have such a sorry attitude when Graham is helping somebody else (i.e. not me). I don't think about how his actions may be speaking to others, only that I am somehow feeling ignored by him (Ugh!). When he is being kind, I am not thinking about how God may be glorified through Graham's willingness; I am only thinking about how he is not focused on me at the time. It made me sick to my stomach to think of how selfish I have been, and of all things, I DO NOT want to be selfish! But, I have been. Maybe not blatantly, but in my thoughts as I think "What about me?" instead of "What about God?" My attitude not only hurt Graham, but it stood between me and God.

I had to apologize to Graham. I want to be completely supportive of his actions for Christ. I usually get irritated when we go out and he not only opens the door for me but a whole multitude behind me. I keep walking and talking and as I look back, I realize I am talking to myself and there's Graham holding the door smiling and greeting the people. I shouldn't keep walking. I should be standing right beside him with a friendly smile as well. I remember one time we went shopping and as we were leaving the store, a woman with a toddler was struggling to carry this huge plastice drawer thingie. I actually got slightly perturbed when Graham took time away from me to help this woman carry the drawer to her car. I wasn't thinking of the joy Graham was bringing to God or the impact he might be having on the woman.

I hate admitting that I am that selfish at times, but I also know that I am not alone in my selfishness. It just manifests differently in all of us as we all struggle to die daily to Christ. So, conviction is pain, but I love that He loves us enough to meet us right where we are, to show the areas that most definitely need improvement. He wants us to be all we can in Him...to pursue righteousness. In order to do that, we must listen to the voice of the Holy Spirit however He chooses to speak to us and be willing to scrape out what does not belong--to replace selfishness with self-sacrifice, replace a sorry attitude with a cheerful heart. I like that the guilt of conviction is fleeting. He does not want us condemned. He just points it out and if you are willing to recieve it, swallow the fact that you are not perfect, He then replaces that guilt with joy because of His amazing sacrifice.
He must become greater. I must become less.

Confession

I am a thief. There. I said it. Or I was a thief for like five minutes. So does that still qualify as an official thief? That's what I was asking God anyway right after I grabbed my receipt and my buggy and noticed the two dollar and fifty cent cupcakes sitting there so innocently under my big honkin' purse. The cupcakes were for a good cause, my cousin's birthday, so doesn't that make it okay to just go ahead and slip quietly out the door without paying for them. After all, lol, I am a good person. That's what I thought as I held Grayson on my hip and stared sweetly straight into the eyes of the Wal-Mart lady standing at the exit checking receipts of people who ding when they walk out. I sailed right past the dinger thinking how easy it is for a smiling mom with cute kids to steal. Unfortunately for the devil in me, I had promised Season we would rent a movie at the Redbox machine right outside the door. So, I had to stop, which meant I had time to think (stupid conscience!) I tried to bargain with God. "I'll pay for them next time!" "I mean, it's not as if I had the intention to steal them when I picked them up. It was a sheer oversight. An innocent accident." "The lines! God the lines are soooooo loooong!" Anyway, that's kind of how it went during the few minutes that it took to rent Underdog. I really just did not want to go back into that stressful moneyhole. It took me hours just to find the shortest check-out, which just so happened to be the self check-out, which, let's be honest, usually takes longer. There is a definite technique to the scanning. One that's not so easy to perfect with the help of two-year-old. Anyway, I did. Go back in. I left my basket outside and told the Wal-Mart exit greeter lady that I "forgot" to pay for the cupcakes. Luckily, God smiled on me and I didn't even have to wait in line. I went back in because I stopped. I stopped long enough to consult with God. Pausing is good. Think before you leap. Oh wait it's look before you leap. I took time to think about what my actions revealed and how they would affect me. Would the effects of stealing two dollar cupcakes be massive? Not outwardly, but I knew, for me, I wouldn't be able to get away from it. Every time I faced God, I would be reminded of my internal ugliness. oh wait. That happens anyway. I'm beginning to ramble. What I am trying to say is I'm a sinner saved by grace. I'm ugly. I'm a thief. Thank God he replaces my ashes with His beauty.

BTW-I didn't even eat a bite of the stupid cupcakes. But I took a moment to pose with the instigators, just in case you were beginning to think that I am not a dork.