Godly Repentance
There are few things which irk me as much as manipulation or defiance. When one of my students went down to the office today to get an ice pack for an injured finger, I expected that she would rejoin the activities in class. After much crying, and her being told that she couldn’t make another trip to the office, she left the room and specifically did what I had told her not to.
When she came back a little later, and I confronted her, my tone restrained nothing of my disapproval. She quickly ran behind my desk, and quietly took some time. Figuring she was sorry at having gotten into trouble, I resumed working with the students at the table where I was sitting.
A little while later, she came up behind me, her hood still over her head and the tears streaking her face. Instead of saying a word to justify herself, she wrapped her arm across my shoulder and put her head against me, quietly crying. And I could only hold her arm, and try soothing her… because, all of a sudden, I realized that what squeezed those tears to the surface was not her anger at being caught, but her remorse in having disappointed me. I might have recognized that look the minute I’d started scolding –
How our relationship with our Father is to be one in which our tears are not a self-pitying anguish at having been convicted of our wrongdoing, but a deep sadness over how we have failed the One we long to please. How prone we often are to see God as filled with wrath, to the point that we huddle in some corner, rendered alienated, rather than restored. Yet He longs for us to come running to Him, and weep upon Him. To forsake the pride which defied Him, and to fall against Him in true penitence, seeking only the privilege of again being able to please Him.
What greater promise of hope exists than within that genuine grief, for in it lies renewed opportunity to obey, and to let Him right us with His will. As one devotional puts it, ‘The tears of godly repentance have been sweet.’
May our tears ever be to Him that welcoming plea which beckons that He invade us more fully than ever before ~
When she came back a little later, and I confronted her, my tone restrained nothing of my disapproval. She quickly ran behind my desk, and quietly took some time. Figuring she was sorry at having gotten into trouble, I resumed working with the students at the table where I was sitting.
A little while later, she came up behind me, her hood still over her head and the tears streaking her face. Instead of saying a word to justify herself, she wrapped her arm across my shoulder and put her head against me, quietly crying. And I could only hold her arm, and try soothing her… because, all of a sudden, I realized that what squeezed those tears to the surface was not her anger at being caught, but her remorse in having disappointed me. I might have recognized that look the minute I’d started scolding –
How our relationship with our Father is to be one in which our tears are not a self-pitying anguish at having been convicted of our wrongdoing, but a deep sadness over how we have failed the One we long to please. How prone we often are to see God as filled with wrath, to the point that we huddle in some corner, rendered alienated, rather than restored. Yet He longs for us to come running to Him, and weep upon Him. To forsake the pride which defied Him, and to fall against Him in true penitence, seeking only the privilege of again being able to please Him.
What greater promise of hope exists than within that genuine grief, for in it lies renewed opportunity to obey, and to let Him right us with His will. As one devotional puts it, ‘The tears of godly repentance have been sweet.’
May our tears ever be to Him that welcoming plea which beckons that He invade us more fully than ever before ~
posted by Purple at 5:14 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home