It was a tiny blow to the heart – and I do mean tiny. I can see it now in hindsight, but not so much then.
I pondered and reflected – too much – causing the offense to grow in my mind until I was overwhelmed in its shadow. I scorned the injustice of it all, not realizing I was dancing out of reality.
“Let the first stone be thrown by the one among you who has not sinned.” The words of my Redeemer jolted ancient religious leaders, causing religion to quietly turn away. But I, I picked up enough stones to hurl them into the form of a wall around my heart, vowing to never let it be broken again.
He took my thoughts and transformed my self-protecting efforts into a looking glass. Oh, the dreaded mirror into one’s own heart. And with every wounding comment I relived in my mind, He revealed words from my own silent heart – words no one hears yet boast the same ugliness.
Why does forgiveness feel like a loss of control?
And today – with every grasp toward a stone – He tenderly reminds me I’m holding my own sin. My Enemy lures me to keep building, but my Maker whispers, “Lay it down”.
And though I long to build upon a wall started years ago, He points me toward the doorway again, toward the escape He created centuries ago with his broken body.