Rooted

I've given a great deal of thought lately to the concept of good versus evil, discerning between the two, and rising up from the inevitable fall that occurs when we get them mixed up.  I walked hand in hand with the devil for most of 2019, but believed I was walking with God.  How could this deception have happened to a woman who has been studying the Bible for as long as I have?  One word: ROOTS. But we'll get to that.   I know the Scriptures well, but it wasn't until recently that God showed  me the depth of confusion and deceit I walked in last year, believing evil to be righteous and righteousness to be open for interpretation.  This deception looked good, talked better, and moved slick as a serpent.  Quoted the Word with the best of them and possessed a power of persuasion like no one else I've ever known.  Charismatic, funny, likeable, and seemingly of God, dressed in everything I thought I wanted.  But that's how temptation works isn't it?  The apple Eve took didn't look rotten.  It wasn't growing mold.  It was shiny, red, and, according to Genesis 3:6, "pleasing to the eye." Desire is a powerful precursor to either catastrophe or victory.  For me, the ultimate tragedy of denying Jesus was averted as God slowly began to open my eyes, but I didn't walk away unscathed.  The battle continues, and the "enemy, the devil, prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour," (1 Peter 5:8) yet I've now seen the face of evil that the world calls good (Isaiah 5:20). Arising out of the ash of my mistakes and failure to fully test the spirits (1 John 4:1-3) is a painfully acquired wisdom that now empowers me to walk hand in hand with Jesus to "tread on serpents and scorpions, and over all the power of the enemy" (Luke 10:19), to "destroy strongholds, arguments, and every lofty opinion raised against the knowledge of God" (2 Corinthians 10:3-5).  Things are not always what they seem and people aren't always who they appear.  Evil won't always look like evil. Sometimes it comes disguised as everything you've ever wanted and if you're not rooted in Christ Jesus (Colossians 2:7) you can and will be easily swept away.  On what foundation are you rooted?

The Unlovable

Who do you see as unlovable?  The convicted murderer?  I met a man once who attempted to murder his entire family, including his four year old brother who now lives as an adult quadriplegic.  I sat across the table from him in a pre-trial detention facility and saw the emptiness in the eyes looking back at me.  Is what he did unforgivable?  Is he wholly unholy and unlovable?  What about the man or woman convicted of a sex offense?  I've worked with many.  Child molestation? Rape? They're the "scum of the earth" most people say, and certainly not deserving of grace or mercy.  Castrate them all?  Sure, because they're definitely among the unlovable.  Right? Wrong.  What about the drug addicted?  The heroine addict who is willing to sell her family and herself to the devil of drug delivery for just one more high. We should relegate her to the same realm of disdain and disgust while we're on a roll.  How about the terrorist?  The unexpected killing of hundreds or thousands of innocents, all in the name of a broken belief system that tells him he's justified in the slayings.  We should definitely withhold love and grace there too.  The white cop who kills a black man?  I'm sure hell has a spot warm just for him, but if not, would you be willing to traverse the fiery terrain to ensure his space is reserved?  I know some who would.  Hatred is powerful.  And ugly.  What action or behaviors are unforgivable in your eyes?  Who are we damming to hell today? Go ahead, run through the list in your head because it's there. You hear of some atrocity and shake your head in contempt toward the person capable, but let's be honest.  Your head also shakes in quiet, albeit prideful, gratitude that you're not that kind of sinner.  I know because I've been there.   When you think of your own life, what are those sins you would never commit?  I've learned in my life to stop saying I'll "never" do this or that because the word "never" is usually a presumptuous prelude to the discovery of my own shortcomings and propensity for an undesirable (at best) or egregious (at worst) sin.  When we say things like well I would never do that, we're usually well connected with our inner Pharisee who simply needs to remove the speck in his eye (Matthew 7:3-5) and love like Jesus did.  And Jesus loved the unlovable.