I’ve spent the last week pursuing Christ in the book of John. I’ve said it once and I’ll gladly say it again, I am the woman at the well in John 4.
I have the been there done that wardrobe. I’ve sipped more than my fair share of this world only to find myself drunk on emptiness and desperation.
But by the grace of God go I.
And as I revisit this Samaritan chapter I feel the same creep of shame begin its subtle approach. Moments long forgotten. Years of darkness and wounding choices. And this time, I take that new memory of the past and capture it afresh.
I’ve learned if I can hold onto that thought and turn it over and over again in my hands, the Lord will reveal truth at every side. I whisper prayers for discernment and truth. And breathe his name into the memory.
I repent, again.
Wonderful, brilliant light now visits that dark moment. I remind myself, and the Lord, that this moment, too, was one that my Savior died for. I own every part of that nasty memory and confess my behaviors unworthiness to my King. I am grateful to no longer be shackled to those same sin patterns but perhaps even more that even this moment past is not going to be lacking of his powerful redemption. And then I breathe in the forgiveness.
And the residual guilt. I ask for help letting go. Spirit, prick me if ever I take a foot down this path.