In the Anyway

I forgive.  Some would say that I forgive too easily.  But I forgive as I have been forgiven.  I forgive as I would like to be forgiven. Maybe I follow the Golden Rule too closely.
In the midst of all of this mess though, in the midst of all of our mistakes, Christ loved us anyway.

In the Garden, Adam and Eve hid, because they knew they had disobeyed, and they knew God knew.  They had realized their nakedness.  And though punishment did follow, God never ceased to love them.  He loved them anyway.

Moses told God he couldn’t do it.  He needed help.  Aaron had to speak for him, because he believed he couldn’t.  He had a stutter.  In spite of his weakness, God loved him anyway.

Solomon asked God for wisdom.  With his wisdom, he did a lot of great things, but also made a lot of mistakes.  He established high places, and he worshiped other gods.  At the end of his life, he realized how meaningless it all was.  And God loved him anyway.

Israel was such a disobedient, easily manipulated nation.  God let them be taken captive, then restored.  They continued to break his heart.  Yet he loved them anyway.  So much that he sent his son, himself, to die.

Peter denied knowing the messiah.  And Christ loved him anyway.

Thomas had doubts.  Jesus loved him in them, anyway.

Anyway.

There has been an awkwardness, a hurt, in my recent life.  And I could choose to hold on to it, a grudge, that would only hurt my being.  Or I could let go.  I could forgive anyway.  I could love anyway.  As I have been loved anyway.

About Choice

The thing about utopia is how imperfect and broken it is.  With ridding life of pain, of conflict, of disagreement, we take away so much.  We take away joy, and love, and color.  We take away choice.

Some believe that with choice, we always choose wrong.  Look at Adam and Eve.  They had the choice to live forever, and instead chose knowledge and death.  Is it because they didn’t have all the facts?  We may not ever know.  But maybe that’s okay.  So many of us say that if it were us, knowing what we know now, we would have chosen differently.  I’m not so sure that this is true.

I would love to rid the world of its corruptness.  I would love to end all wars and hunger and racism and all of that.  However, this may never be possible.  Not because people always choose wrong, but because the wrong choices sound the loudest.

If someone never knew pain, lived in a world without pain, and was surrounded by people who only knew the same, then once pain arrived it would scream in their face.  Everyone would feel it.  And to stop it, more pain would arise.  Or maybe it wouldn’t.

All I know is that the world is fallen, that I am fallen.  All I know is that I am redeemed.  All I know is that this all can be washed clean.  If only we would make the choice.