One unfortunate aspect of God’s love is that He allows us to experience the natural consequences of our sin. If there were no consequences, we would not learn to avoid sin. Sometimes the consequences last long after we have repented.
1 Peter 5:10, “And the God of all grace, who called you to his eternal glory in Christ, after you have suffered a little while, will himself restore you and make you strong, firm, and steadfast.”
I know that, in my life, it means I live with some regrets. There are things I did before I knew Christ that still leave a stain on my life. I know the repercussions are my fault, but that doesn’t make them any less painful. I wonder sometimes how long I have to continue to live with the consequences. The truth is, maybe the rest of my life. Some sins affect us that way.
As Christians, especially when dealing with other Christians, we feel we should be forgiven. It is what Christ expects of us when we are offended. Why shouldn’t we expect it from others? Life isn’t that simple. God forgives; we don’t necessarily forgive ourselves.
Hebrews 8:12, “For I will forgive their wickedness and will remember their sins no more.”
There are many reasons the consequences linger. Sometimes the offended party has moved on. They no longer see the offense. It is a thing of the past that does not need revisiting. It is not forgiveness; it is acceptance. At other times, the offended person has forgiven but does not want to risk being hurt again. They don’t hold on to the hurt; they simply don’t want to open themselves up to it again. Then there is the obvious: we earned it.
Proverbs 4:23, “Above all else, guard your heart, for everything you do flows from it.”
The “we earned it” part is the hardest. It is an acknowledgment that this is on us. We built this house; we have to live in it. That belief can lead to depression or worse. Holding on to the truth that we somehow deserve what we are getting can drag us down. This fatalism carries a sense of finality. We submit to our circumstances. Fractured relationships may never become whole; they just become less broken.
Colossians 3:3, “For you died, and your life is now hidden with Christ in God.”
These consequences are not God punishing us for disobedience. They are the natural consequences of living in a fallen world. Sin brings correction. Don’t mistake God’s course correction for us when He sees the need. By definition, it is not punishment but a means of putting us on the right path, sometimes with rebuke.
The biggest sins are not momentary lapses of control, such as anger or an outburst of discompassionate honesty. They are environmental sins, those that manifest as repetitive behavior over time. We become someone we shouldn’t be. These circumstances are hard to mend. Trust is fragile.
Psalm 51:10, “Create in me a pure heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me.”
This is not a solution; it is simply what I do. I try to live as closely aligned with God as possible, extending grace, compassion, and love to what I see as the offended party. I am not trying to explain or seek reconciliation, just to model who I should have always been. Letting who I have become slowly seep into their image of me. In a perfect world, they will one day initiate a discussion about it. But we don’t live in a perfect world, so I will accept that they may quietly acknowledge that I have changed. The offense will die as a new relationship is born.
Jeremiah 29:12-13, “Then you will call on me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart.”
God is against sin, not because He has a set of rules we must follow to prove our allegiance. He created us and knows what sin does to us, and He wants to spare us that pain. We don’t always listen, and pain seeps into our lives.
But you are not who you were.
2 Corinthians 5:17, “Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here!”
Here are the four important lessons I have learned in life.
I finished writing a book this week. It took more than two years. It wasn’t a biography or a memoir. I didn’t write about my achievements. It was about how I became me, about what happened in my life that transformed me and shaped me into who I am today.
God Never Intended for us to Stay the Same. Many Christians can point to the moment they accepted Christ. They remember the day, the place, and the circumstances. It marked the beginning of a relationship that changed their eternal future. Yet for many believers, that is where the story seems to stop.
Another year, another Birthday has arrived.
Buried but not forgotten, I was asked today to join a panel to discuss one of the most painful events of my life. The purpose is noble: to help others understand pain, survival, and the hidden struggles people carry. We go through these stages to refine ourselves and become more human in our interactions with others.
The good son—do you even know who I am talking about? Luke 15:11-32 is a parable Jesus taught about a lost, wayward son who finds redemption through a good father. The story is often taught in Sunday school and is the subject of many sermons and commentaries. The focus of most of these teachings is on how the prodigal son squandered his inheritance, was redeemed by a loving father, and was restored to his family. It exemplifies the act of Christ redeeming us back into His family after we have turned our backs on Him.
God does not waste pain, or why do good people suffer? This isn’t a question born out of curiosity. It’s asked from hospital rooms, gravesides, broken homes, and silent prayers that seem unanswered. It’s not philosophical; it’s personal.
I see Paul as a role model for living. Not just because he’s passionate about sharing the gospel, but in how he lived his everyday life. It’s easy for me to depend on my past as a guide for my future. This way of thinking assumes there’s a fixed trait or unchanging characteristic in who I was that determines who I can become. It’s the old nature-versus-nurture debate. But look at Paul as an example.
Non-believers are not my enemies; they are victims of my enemy. That statement shed new light on how I engage with those who haven’t had the privilege of meeting my Savior. Non-believers are victims of ignorance and misinformation. We can’t reasonably expect non-Christians to act like anything other than non-believers.