I don’t know why I thought there was such thing as a perfect Christian. That there was this mold that if you did everything just right, then maybe you would be loved more by God. I thought that if I had just one not so nice thought or if I went through a season of silence with God, then that was just it. I was done for. Satan kept whispering every time I would sin or feel alone due to God’s silence. “You’re not a good enough Christian. Who are you to even call yourself a Christian? You might as well take back that day you got saved, because why would God want someone who doubted him and lacked trust? God’s got better people out there than you.”
I listened and still listen to these whispers to the point where they almost seem real. It’s all illogical though really. Why would God send Jesus to die for my sins and leave me because I sinned? I mean if that were the case, Jesus’s death would’ve been pointless. And I’m sure Jesus wouldn’t have endured all of that for nothing. Everything Satan says is illogical. The notion that my salvation could be taken away due to a lapse of spiritual closeness or hearing God’s voice would be ridiculous, because once again the cross would have been for nothing.
Every time I hear these whispers, I think back to Bart Millard’s profound words. Bart is the lead singer of MercyMe and for a long time he struggled the same battle that I fight. Everyday, the devil would whisper these lies into his mind to the point where he almost walked away from everything God had planned for him. But everyday, Bart’s friend would text him, “You are holy. You are righteous. And you are redeemed.” For the past weeks, I’ve doodled that on my notes in class and said it to myself in the mirror even. Because sometimes, I think us Christians and Jesus followers forget what the cross really did. It made us flawless. God sees us as He sees Jesus–holy and righteous. I get so into the motions that I forget that I am a new creation in Christ. I forget who I am through Him. I forget the power that lives within me. I forget all of this, because I’m too busy trying to have it all together spiritually like I think everyone else does.
One thing I’ve had to realize is that God doesn’t love my pastor more than me. God doesn’t love me more than an alcoholic man that beats his wife. God doesn’t love the great prophet Elijah more than me. He loves us the same amount. And despite my preconceived idea that there’s this box God puts me in in order to love me, there is nothing I can do to make Him love me less. Even if on some days I listen to the enemy’s whispers, accidentally say a cuss word in traffic, or gossip about some girl’s shoes. God loves me no less on my worst days, than He does on my best days glorifying His name.
I don’t say any of this to say,”Hey go out and do what ya want cause God’s cool with it, He still loves you!” I say all of this to speak to my own heart and yours that no matter when or how far you fall, He loves you no less. So get back up and fight the good fight.