backslider no. 2

There is a vast difference between a backslider who refuses to realize his folly and continues in his sin, and yet utters words of praise, and a backslider, who, after repenting and crying out to his God and Father for help, praises Him for opening his eyes and restoring him to the road to holiness.

The first one is a double-talking hypocrite. He could either be an especially sin-hardened Christian, or worse, a wolf in sheep's clothing. The second one is the prodigal son (Lk. 15:11).

Though his face is streaked with dirt and mud, though he is still clad in filthy rags that reek of pig refuse, he runs down the hill to meet his Father's welcoming arms, and weeps tears of sorrow and joy on his father's bosom. There is sorrow over his waywardness and stupidity, but there is joy over his Father's great love for him.

I am he. I am the second backslider. But, I confess, there are times when I act like the first. If you catch me with such an abominable attitude, please pray for me. And whack me on the head several times with a 2-by-4. Hehehe. Naah. Please, reprove me in the way Jesus would have done.

It is so wonderful that there would be exceeding joy and gladness in heaven because of me (Lk 15:7)-- well, not entirely because of me -- because God restored and reconciled to Himself a sinner so wretched and undeserving and hopeless. God is so good!

You're right, Paul. I cannot write words of exhortation when I backslide -- much less write about anything. He takes away my words, my writing, when I sin. The faucet of my creative juice sputters and runs dry when I try to use it to impress others.

It is His way, I think, of reminding me that there is nothing I possess which He has not given to me out of His abundant grace, and, just as Lance has written me, that He has the full right and power to take away from me whatever He wants to.