A Perfect Fit

I have learned recently the necessity of grace, the fact that no matter what I do, no matter what I think, no matter how many good things I try to do to cover up all the bad things, the evilness within myself far outweighs them. It's a lesson that's been a long time coming. For so long I have leaned on my own sense of grace and my own sense of strength that I didn't realize until now that this crooked crutch I've depended on has had me on a path I was never meant to stumble down. Last night, as I was reading Romans 2 and 3, God's words hit so close to home I began to bawl.

I cried for the fact that I have been running from God, wanting to do the things I wanted to do, the things I thought would fulfill my sick desires. I cried for the fact that I had turned my back on my Father. I cried for the fact that I had felt so little remorse for so long for the sins I had used to nail Christ to the cross. I cried out for forgiveness. I cried out for mercy. I cried out in anger towards myself and for the fact that I knew that justice must be served, and that I deserved every bit of it. I prayed in agony for God to just take away this pain, and even more painful was that I knew I deserved it.

This separation from my Creator, my Redeemer, my Savior was hell, in the fullest sense of the word. I knew my sins and I saw them standing there, laughing at me and scoffing at this small, sickly being that knew nothing and had done even less for my Lord. These sins that I had no way of shedding on my own, of my own accord. I was stained to the very bone marrow with sins as crimson as the thickest blood, and there was nothing I could do about it, and that overtook me.

But in my pain, sorrow, anger, emptiness, depravity, I heard a voice through the darkness that was calling my name. I heard a voice that seemed so familiar and so close, I thought it was there with me. It said, "Get up, David. Get up and take my hand. You are my son, my creation, my love, and I have paid the price for you. You are mine. You are wholly mine and you don't have to be captive to these sins any longer." I saw him in my mind, reaching out for me with a hole in one hand and holding a robe of the whitest white in the other. I stood up, cowering in his glorious presence, but he touched my tear-drenched cheek and looked into my eyes.

This was my Father. This was my Savior. This was the One who had conquered death for me and the rest of the world. He was alive in front of me, holding my new robe that he had cleansed by his own blood. The darkness was gone. The pain was gone. The anger was gone. All I felt was acceptance into his family. I knew I was still not perfect, and I knew I had a long road to travel to grow closer to this man, but in his presence, anything was possible. I had found my life in him.

He put it on the white robe he had been holding for me and I put it on...it was a perfect fit.