Morning Coffee With Renae

Jonah 4:6 – 8 “Then the LORD God provided a vine and made it grow up over Jonah to give shade for his head to ease his discomfort, and Jonah was very happy about the vine. But at dawn the next day God provided a worm, which chewed the vine so that it withered. When the sun rose, God provided a scorching east wind, and the sun blazed on Jonah’s head so that he grew faint. He wanted to die, and said, ‘It would be better for me to die than to live.’”

When I was a little girl, my pastor, Brother Bennie, provided an object lesson. Using a hammer, he pounded nails into an old board. “Those nails are like sin, and the board represents our lives,” he said. Then, he used the claw end of the hammer to remove the nails. He pointed to the holes in the board. “God can take away our sin. But we often have to live with the scars that sin leaves behind.”

I’ve been in church, hearing preaching and teaching for decades. But that one little object lesson stands out in my mind above other, more academic lessons. Why? Because object lessons work. They are simple, concrete, and they paint a picture for us.

God is the Creator of object lessons, and He used one here with Jonah. He gave the pouting prophet a vine for shade. Then He took it away.

Jonah rejoiced over a silly, soul-less vine. Then he was distressed, even devastated, when the vine died. Yet, he didn’t give a hoot about the people of Nineveh, who were trapped in a miserable existence and were destined for eternal death.

We can shake our heads and point our fingers at Jonah’s shallow, superficial values. Yet, I am just as guilty. I was frantic when my daughter’s pet rabbit was lost. I even prayed that the rabbit would be found, and rejoiced when the pet was located, all safe and sound. I mourn when one of my plants dies. Yet, I have friends and neighbors all around me who don’t know the One who can give them life. Like the Ninevites, they are trapped in a miserable existence, and are destined for eternal death.

And I do nothing. I show more concern over a pet or a plant than I do for people.

Ouch.

I’m not saying that we shouldn’t love our animals or care for our plants. But friends, shouldn’t we be most concerned about the people who are all around us, who need God? Shouldn’t our hearts break? Shouldn’t we be on our knees for them?

I’m glad God is a patient, gentle teacher. I’m glad He takes the time to teach us things in simple, concrete ways, so that we can “get it.” God used the vine to gently redirect Jonah’s focus, and to get his attention. Then, he invited Jonah back into the conversation (v. 9).

I don’t know about you, but I think I need to reevaluate my priorities. I need to make sure my values are in line with God’s values. While I will continue to love the sweet, non-human blessings God has placed in my life, I must be sure that people are always my first priority.

Dear Father, Thank You for making me – and all people – Your first priority. Help me to reflect that love and compassion for those around me.

Amen

Jonah 4:4-5 “But the Lord replied, ‘Have you any right to be angry?’ Jonah went out and sat down at a place east of the city. There he made himself a shelter, sat in its shade and waited to see what would happen to the city.“

Jonah must have been pretty mad, alright. I mean, think about it. He’s talking to God, here. The Creator of the universe. The Master of everything. The All-powerful, Almighty King. Jonah was playing with fire by asking God to take his life (v.3). With a blink, God could do just that.

Man. After all that Jonah had been through, you’d think he’d learn. If I’d have been God, I’d have . . .

Well, let’s not go there. I guess it’s a good thing I’m not God.

But God, who had every right to lose his temper with this egotistical, self-centered, spoiled prophet, responded calmly to Jonah’s sass and self-pity. He asked a simple question: “Do you have a right to be angry?” Or, to be more specific, God said, “Tell me why you’re angry.”

You see, God knew what many of us don’t. Many times, when a person is angry, they just want someone to listen. They want to be heard. And no matter what we say to try to make them feel better, a person’s anger is often something they have to work through on their own.

Jonah didn’t answer God’s question. Instead, he stormed off. He found a place where he could sit and sulk.

But God . . .

I love those words – But God. We humans often have a way of responding to others in the heat of the moment, especially when we know we’re right and the other person is wrong. But God’s way of dealing with a heated situation is often different from our own. God always shows extreme patience and understanding and compassion, even when we’re being brats.

God asked Jonah a question, and gave him a chance to respond. He didn’t yell or holler or accuse or point fingers. God didn’t defend Himself or His actions right away. He gave Jonah time. He gave him space. And when Jonah chose not to respond, God didn’t force the issue. He didn’t stand in Jonah’s way and say, “No, sir, buddy. You’re not leaving until we finish this thing.” He didn’t bully Jonah into hearing God’s side of the story.

God gave Jonah something to think about, and then He gave Jonah the time and space to process it. He even showed Jonah love while Jonah was pouting, as we’ll see in the next verse.

Man. If only I would follow God’s example when someone is angry. While God responded with a simple question, I often respond with accusations. While God gave Jonah some quiet time, so he could cool off, I tend to follow the person around, spouting my case in a very loud voice. While God let Jonah have some space, I sometimes want to force myself and my opinions on the other person until they agree with me and admit they were wrong.

My way never seems to work out very well. Imagine that.

Next time a person says something that really annoys me, whether it is their own pity party, or an accusation against me or something I believe in, I’m going to try to respond like God would. I’m going to speak gently. I’m going to ask simple, thought-provoking questions and then be quiet. If and when they respond, I’m going to really listen. And I’m going to give them space, for I know that they will better hear God’s whisper if I’m not yelling in their face.

Dear Father, Thank You for Your perfect examples for human relationships. When someone is angry at me, or when someone makes me angry, help me to respond with a whispering love.

Amen

Jonah 4:3 “Now, O Lord, take away my life, for it is better for me to die than to live.”

Have you ever had a really bad day? How about a bad week, or month, or even year? Perhaps your whole life seems to be going down the tubes. Well, that’s the kind of frustration and despair Jonah is feeling at the moment.

Let’s just review what poor Jonah has been through. First, his boss (God) gave him the worst assignment he could imagine. Jonah had to become a glorified delivery boy. He had to go and rub shoulders with the people he hated more than anything, and deliver God’s message. Now, if he’d known God was going to zap them all, he probably would have enjoyed the assignment. But no. He knew his boss better than that. He just had this sinking feeling in his stomach about the way things would turn out. And watching his most despicable enemy experience God’s mercy and compassion was just about the worst thing Jonah could imagine.

So he tried to quit his job. But his boss sent a storm to chase him down. Then, he decided to just take the plunge – literally. At least if he drowned, he wouldn’t have to do the thing he dreaded. But no, even that didn’t work out for him. God sent a giant fish to swallow him up and keep him safe – though quite uncomfortable – for a few days. Inside that fish, Jonah finally gave up. “Okay, God. I’ll do it. But I’m not gonna like it.”

Then, he gets washed up on shore. He is exhausted. He stinks. His skin is probably irritated and bleached out from the acids in the fish’s stomach. But does he get to spend a few days at the spa, to rest and recover?

Nope. He might as well get this over with. He dusts off his seaweed and starts walking. I’m not sure how long or how far he had to walk before he got to Nineveh, but considering he was already exhausted, it couldn’t have been a pleasant journey. And then, when he arrived, he did it. He delivered the message.

Sure enough, his worst fears were realized. Those nasty Ninevites repented, and God forgave them. Now, Jonah had to call them . . . oh, the shame . . . he had to call them his brothers.

Could things get any worse?

Not to Jonah’s way of thinking. He was ready to give up right then and there. “God, just kill me. At least if I’m dead, I’ll be in a better place. I can’t take any more.”

Hmmmm . . . I’ve been there.

Many of us have been at that place where we just say, “God, I can’t take any more. Just kill me now.”

Yet, God still had plans for Jonah. Important plans. And He has important plans for us, too.

Do you remember who wrote the book of Jonah? Yes, that’s right. Jonah wrote it. And his story has reminded people of God’s amazing compassion and unending mercy ever since. You see, God had bigger plans for Jonah than he could have even imagined.

But what if God had granted Jonah’s wishes? What if God had zapped the Ninevites?

What if God had zapped Jonah?

What if Jonah’s story had never been written?

Well, one thing’s for sure. People might have a hard time believing that God’s compassion is bigger than His judgment. Some people might never turn to God, because they think they’ve been too bad, they’ve done too much. They might never turn to Him, because they think it’s too late.

Jonah’s story tells us that it’s never too late to seek God’s forgiveness. His love is bigger, stronger, more intense than anything we have done. And nothing surprises God, either. He already knows all about our pasts. He loves us, and His goal is to rescue us from a destructive lifestyle. He doesn’t want to destroy anybody.

Wow.

Jonah was tired, worn-out, exhausted, frustrated, mad . . . yet God wasn’t finished with Him yet. He had important plans for Jonah.

Hang in there, my friend. He has important plans for you, too.

Dear Father, Thank you for Jonah’s story. Sometimes, I feel like Jonah – tired, frustrated, ready to give up. At those times, please give me the energy to keep going. I want to accomplish Your purpose for my life.

Amen

Jonah 4:2 “He prayed to the Lord, ‘O Lord, is this not what I said when I was still at home? That is why I was so quick to flee to Tarshish. I knew that you are a gracious and compassionate God, slow to anger and abounding in love, a God who relents from sending calamity.’”

Poor Jonah. He knew from the beginning that this would happen. Now, his worst fears have come true. Those evil, sick, violent, perverted Ninevites have avoided calamity by turning to God. And Jonah even knows, in his heart, that their repentance won’t last. However sincere they may be right now, Jonah knows they’ll eventually return to their old ways.

And boy, is he mad.

Why wouldn’t God just zap them all? Why would a loving and just God allow such evil to persist in the world? It didn’t make any sense. It wasn’t fair.

It still doesn’t make sense. It still doesn’t seem fair. Yet, God still stands with open arms, waiting to embrace all who turn to Him. He even reaches out to them, and tries to draw them in.

Even when He knows they will eventually turn back to their old ways.

Man. It just doesn’t seem right.

I guess that’s why God tells us, in Isaiah 55:9, that His ways are higher than our ways. We won’t ever truly understand God’s character, because we are limited in our understanding of such love-driven power. But in that same chapter in Isaiah, God offers an invitation: “Come, all you who are thirsty, come to the waters.”

God’s compassion is equally available to everyone. Even the people who don’t deserve it.

Ouch.

Our understanding teaches us several things about justice:

1. Evil should be punished.

2. There are some levels of evil that can’t be rehabilitated.

3. If evil is forgiven without consequence, there’s no reason to live upright, faith-filled lives. What’s the point?

4. If evil isn’t judged, the bad guys win.

5. We need order. Part of that order requires consistent consequences for evil.

We need these rules for living. They are God-given and God-driven. So why doesn’t God have to play by His own rules?

Well, because He’s God. That’s why.

And because His love is always deep in the center of His judgement. While our desire is for judgment, at least for the people we don’t like, His desire is for a relationship with all the people He created. He doesn’t care any more or any less about my worst enemy than He does about me.

Yes, my friend. God will punish evil. He will have the final say. But He will never, ever blindly destroy someone who hasn’t had a clear opportunity to turn to Him first. And while I have been blessed with many opportunities to recognize God’s love and mercy and compassion, not everyone has been so blessed. Some people, because of their very culture of sin and violence, because of the bitterness and anger and hurt that has built up in their hearts, because of reasons that we can’t understand or imagine, have been blind. They haven’t seen God’s outstretched arm, though it’s been there all along. And God will not destroy them until they’ve clearly recognized the opportunity for salvation.

This story of God’s compassion toward the Ninevites isn’t a call to do away with our justice system. Rather, it’s an invitation to catch a glimpse of God’s true character. It’s an opportunity to examine our own hearts, our own attitudes and see how they measure up, compared to God’s.

I don’t know about you, but I still can’t comprehend God’s mind, His love, His ways. I suppose I never will. Yet, I want to keep trying. I want to keep seeking the mind of God, so that little by little I might be transformed into His image. I have a long way to go. But a journey of a thousand miles begins with . . . yes, that’s right.

A single step.

Dear Father, I don’t understand Your ways, but I want to. Please help me to accept Your ways even when I don’t understand them. Help me to become more and more like You with each small step.

Amen

Jonah 4:1 “But Jonah was greatly displeased and became angry.”

Have you ever been seething, boiling angry? I’m not talking about a little miffed. I’m talking about the kind of angry where you feel you will explode, the kind of angry where you want to hit someone or destroy something. That’s the kind of anger Jonah felt at this moment.

Reading this from our comfortable easy-chairs, centuries after the fact, we tend to think of Jonah as a spoiled, selfish man who wanted God’s grace only for Himself. To our way of thinking, he looks like a child with a favorite toy – he doesn’t want to share. But that’s not exactly true.

You see, in many ways, Jonah was justified in his anger. Nineveh wasn’t just a city of evil people. They weren’t the kinds of drug-using, prostitution-loving people who might say, “Who are we hurting?” They weren’t just corrupt and sinful.

They were terrorists.

Yes, you heard me. The Ninevites were terrorists. They had violently attacked the Israelites, had killed them and hung their body parts out for sport. They were a sick, hateful, perverse people, and they deserved punishment. Jonah knew that any repentance they offered would, in all likelihood, be only temporary, and he was right. Less than a generation later, Nineveh returned to her wicked ways.

Common sense told Jonah – and tells us as well – that these types of people must be punished. They must be destroyed, or they will live to terrorize again.

Sounds familiar, doesn’t it?

How could a loving, compassionate God allow such wickedness in the world? Forget about the Ninevites. What about the Israelites? Surely, God would bring justice upon the people who had caused so much agony to His own people. Wouldn’t He?

Well, no. And Jonah knew that from the beginning.

And it made him so mad, he could barely speak.

So, now that we understand Jonah’s anger, let’s look at things from God’s point of view. Seeing things from God’s perspective is always difficult, because we are limited in our understanding. But praise God, His Holy Spirit helps us see things the way He sees them, when we ask Him. Dear Lord, help us to understand.

God loves the people He created. All of them. And although He is a God of strict justice, He is also a God of immeasurable mercy and compassion.

Yeah, He had compassion on the Israelites, just as He has compassion on us. Yeah, He was steamed at the Ninevites’ behavior, which is why He threatened calamity.

But, while Jonah saw only the wickedness of the Ninevites, God saw their ignorance (Jonah 4:11). They didn’t know any other way to be. Wickedness, destruction and terrorism were a way of life for them, ingrained in them from the time they were infants. While the Israelites had hope, the Ninevites had none. The Israelites knew of God’s goodness and mercy. The Ninevites lived in total darkness.

Yes, God knew that the Ninevites would eventually return to their evil ways, just as He knew the Israelites would. Just as He knows I will and you will. Still, He loves all of the people He created, and He wants us to know that love. And when He sees a person or a nation who is without hope, He will do just about anything to show Himself to them. To us.

Yeah, I know. My evil ways can’t be compared to those of a terrorist. But perhaps that’s because I have been blessed to live in a nation, in a culture where God’s light shines. Though it may be dim at times, He is there, and any who seek Him will find Him.

But what if I lived in a culture that was so black, so evil and wicked . . . what if darkness was all I knew? What if I was so accustomed to the dark, I didn’t even recognize the possibility of light? What if I just accepted perversity and cruelty as normal?

What if I had no hope?

Strict justice, without compassion and mercy, would say that I must burn in hell. It would even say I should be treated the way I have treated others, and die a cruel and torturous death. An eye for an eye, right?

Although God is a just God, He is also compassionate. It is His compassion that allows me, a lowly sinner, to become His child with all the rights and privileges afforded a child of the King. Even though I’ve done nothing to deserve that kind of love, He loves me anyway, simply because He created me.

He created me and you, and He loves us. And friends, He created the people we don’t like, too.

Sometimes, we get angry when God blesses someone we dislike. We get pouty and sulky when our arch enemy gets a promotion, or the gal who beat us out for homecoming queen also gets a full scholarship to the school we applied for. And when someone who has gone out of their way to treat us badly receives a big ol’ heaping helping of God’s grace, man, we can hardly stand it.

That’s the difference between us and God. And if God weren’t the kind of God who shows compassion on repentant terrorists, He also wouldn’t be the kind of God who shows compassion on me.

Dear Father, Forgive me for being angry at Your goodness, shown to people I don’t like. Help me to see things the way You see them. Help me to love people, not because they deserve love, but because they need it.

Amen

Jonah 3:10 “When God saw what they had done and how they had put a stop to their evil ways, he changed his mind and did not carry out the destruction he had threatened.” NLT

“It’s a woman’s prerogative to change her mind.” That old adage has been my defense for many an indecisive moment in my life. Should I wear the blue dress or the red one? Eat Italian or Mexican? Read the novel or the newspaper?

I’m allowed to change my mind, because I don’t always know for sure what I want. God, on the other hand, is supposed to be unchanging. He’s not supposed to change His mind (see 1 Samuel 15:29). He said Nineveh would be overturned in forty days (see Jonah 3:4). God was very specific.

Yet, it says it right there in black and white. God changed His mind.

Confusing?

Not really. Not when we understand God’s nature. You see, God’s compassion is always hidden deep inside His judgment. It’s not ever His will for any to perish. Unlike people, God doesn’t feel the need to adhere to strict rules of justice and punishment. He is free to act however He wants. And as long as His purpose is accomplished, He will always lean toward compassion. After all, it is His nature to be compassionate.

So, He really didn’t change His mind, after all. On the surface, it may look like He did. But that’s just because of our limited human understanding of God’s nature.

Let’s look at it another way. God said that Nineveh would be overturned.

Hmmm . . .

The way I see it, Nineveh was overturned. They were one of the wickedest cities around. They were immoral. Perverted, even. They were rebellious. They were the worst kinds of sinners.

Then they heard God’s word, and for the first time ever, they saw themselves the way God saw them. They realized just how messed up their lives were, and they decided they didn’t want to be that way any more. They tore their clothes, they fell on their faces and they begged for forgiveness.

Now, if that’s not what you call “overturned,” I don’t know what is.

So really, God didn’t change His mind at all, did He? His desire was to get rid of the sin which was destroying them, and He was going to do it, one way or another. When His mission was accomplished, He showed compassion. He didn’t want to destroy the people. He wanted to destroy the sin.

What was true for Nineveh is true for us, as well. God hates sin. He hates its effects on our lives and on our world. And He wants to see it destroyed.

We can either repent, the way that Nineveh repented, and get rid of the sin willingly – which is no easy task. Or, we can keep right on living in rebellion against God, and accept the consequences of our actions. One way or another, God will crush sin. We can either lay that sin down and step aside, or we can hang onto it and risk being crushed, ourselves.

But even then, God’s nature is compassion. Even to the last possible second, even with our dying breath, we can cry out to God. We can repent. We can change our minds about our sin, and tell God how sorry we are, and He will show compassion. He will welcome us into His arms, hold us tight and never let go. That was His desire all along, because He loves us.

And He will never, ever change His mind about that.

Dear Father, Thank You for Your unchanging love. Forgive me for the sin that creeps into my life – I know You hate it. Please crush the sin before it crushes me.

Amen.

Jonah 3:7 – 9 “Then he issued a proclamation in Nineveh: ‘By the decree of the king and his nobles: Do not let any man or beast, herd or flock, taste anything; do not let them eat or drink. But let man and beast be covered with sackcloth. Let everyone call urgently on God. Let them give up their evil ways and their violence. Who knows? God may yet relent and with compassion turn from his fierce anger so that we will not perish.”

Don’t you just hate that moment when the clouds open up, the bright light of heaven shines down, and you realize you’ve been . . . well, wrong?

It’s hard to admit that we’ve messed up. It’s hard to own up to our faults. To do so means we have to swallow our pride, humble ourselves, and say we’re sorry. And none of us likes to do that.

But that is what repentance calls for. Whether we are repenting to God or to another person, true repentance does more than say, “I’m sorry.” It does more than beg for mercy in order to avoid punishment. Oh, those things might be results of true repentance. But alone, they don’t add up to repentance.

Nope. True repentance requires an all-out, honest look at ourselves and our actions. True repentance requires us to say, “Oh, man. I really messed up. I was wrong, and I don’t want to do that again.”

True repentance requires shame.

All too often, we put on a sort of repentance-like countenance, usually when we’ve been caught doing something we shouldn’t have. We want to avoid the consequences of our transgressions, so we say we’re sorry. Then, we act really sweet for a few days, until we feel like the danger has passed.

Not so for the Ninevites. From the king all the way down to the poorest beggar, they repented. They realized that what Jonah said was true, and that they deserved every ounce of doom God intended to hurl upon them.

Jonah’s preaching brought with it that moment of the clouds opening up. The people saw themselves for what they really were – dreadful, disgraceful, disgusting sinners who had perverted God’s love and broken God’s laws.

And they were ashamed.

Recently, I’ve had one of those moments of realization about my own life. I feel like Paul, who said “the things I want to do, I don’t do, and the things I don’t want to do, I do.” I don’t always mirror God’s character to those around me. I am impatient. Unkind. I lose my temper.

And I am ashamed.

That shame feels pretty rotten, and yet I am grateful for it. For it’s in that moment of acknowledgement of my sinfulness that God’s mercy begins it’s beautiful, thirst-quenching descent on my life. You see, it’s never His intent or desire to cast doom on any of His creation. He loves us, and He doesn’t want any of us to perish.

But He knows that sin will destroy us, and it’s consequences in our lives will bring much greater havoc and misery than a one-time explosion, or whatever He was threatening for Nineveh. He wanted them to repent, so that they could start living the full, abundant lives He created them for.

He wants that for us, too.

While I’m not sure I’ll walk around wearing sackcloth (not even sure what that is or where to purchase it), and I doubt I’ll cover myself with ashes from my bar-b-que grill, I do feel shame for the wrong things I have done. I will most certainly spend some time on my knees, telling God how wrong I’ve been, and asking Him to help me change. Like the Ninevites, I want to do everything I can to show God how sorry I am.

Dear Father, Thank you for the Ninevites’ example of repentance. Help me to see my sin for what it is, and turn from it.

Amen

Well, Jonah was only in the belly of the whale for three days and nights. But apparently, I’m not as compassionate as our Almighty God, and I have left the poor fellow hanging in cyberspace for nearly six months. When I get to glory, I’ll have to seek him out and beg his forgiveness.

All that to say . . . I’m back. At least for a little while. Finals are over, summer is here, and hopefully we’ll finish this story before long.

Love to all!

–Renae

about the morning when death was conquered by our Lord.

I mean, God, I know how things were on that Friday when He died. Or at least I’ve heard.

The sun hid its face. All was black, right in the middle of the day.

The earth shook.

Creation mourned, that day that Your own Son became sin, for me.

All of creation cried in devastation, in grief.

I still feel overwhelmed, when I think of it.

But I wonder, God . . . on that third day . . . when the price for my sin had been paid in full . . .

When Jesus stood up, stretched, and walked out of that tomb . . .

The sun shined on that day! Did it shine even brighter than ever before?

Did the flowers bloom more proudly?

Did the trees stand straighter?

I wonder if the fish splashed more, jumped higher. . .

I wonder if the birds sang more beautifully than they had. . .

I’ll bet they did!

Was the grass greener, the sky bluer? Did the colors of nature stand out in more stunning brilliance?

Something tells me they did.

Somehow, in my spirit, I just know it!

I know that on this day, when I remember fully what You did for me, I feel more alive than ever before!

And I also wonder . . .

If I’ll ever be able to show You how grateful I am.

Thank You, Lord.

–r

Jonah 3:6 “When the news reached the king of Nineveh, he rose from his throne, took off his royal robes, covered himself with sackcloth and sat down in the dust.”

When most of us think of Jonah’s story, we think of the miracle of one man being trapped in a fish’s belly for three days, and surviving. That is truly a miracle, a feat only God Himself could accomplish, and it certainly makes a great story. However, the book of Jonah holds within its pages an even greater miracle – one which often gets overshadowed by our preoccupation with the fish.

It is the miracle of repentance.

Never in history, before or after this story took place, has such a massive revival occurred. The entire city repented! And it wasn’t just some tiny little dot on a map. Nineveh was a huge city, and every last person there heard God’s message and immediately felt sorry for the way he had behaved.

Even the king.

Even the king.

Friends, do you understand what a great miracle takes place in verse six? The ruler of an evil, sin-filled, drunken, pornographic society (sound familiar?) heard God’s message and rose from his throne. He removed himself from his place of authority.

Next, he took off his royal robes, thus placing himself at the same level as any other commoner. He replaced those soft, fine, colorful, luxurious robes with sackcloth, which was a harsh, course fabric. It was uncomfortable and itchy. It was ugly. And it was worn by people who were at the lowest place of their lives.

Then, he sat down in the dust. No more throne for him! He humbled himself. He made himself physically dirty and low to show that he understood his spiritual state. He was spiritually dirty, spiritually as low as he could get in comparison with the Most High God.

This was the king.

Friends, I feel convicted just writing this. I am not royal by birth. I’m not a great political figure, nor am I a superstar. There’s nothing about me that makes me important, by the world’s standards. I have nothing on this king of Nineveh.

And yet, I’m not sure I’ve ever humbled myself the way he did. As I read this passage, I have to ask myself a few questions.

Do I really understand who I am, in comparison to God?

Do I understand how spiritually low and dirty I am?

Have I ever truly comprehended the depth of God’s grace and mercy?

Do I realize the impact God’s forgiveness has had on my life?

As I ponder these questions, I am beginning to see that I need to imitate that king’s actions. I need to remove myself from the throne of my life. I need to remove any attitude of self-importance, and throw myself at the feet of the Almighty. Then, and only then, can I bask in the joy that will come when He lifts me up, draws me to Himself, and says, “Welcome home, my child.”

Dear Father, I repent. Thank You for Your forgiveness and mercy.

Amen