There’s an old-fashioned term, besetting sins, used for the
sin traps we fall into again and again. They’re the sins each individual is
most susceptible to, the kind that seem to follow us for long periods of time. I
don’t have to wonder what mine are; we’re well acquainted. My besetting sins
are close relatives and have specific names: Criticizing. Judging. Self-righteousness.
(I wish I didn’t know how much God hates self-righteousness, but it’s hard to
escape when Jesus spent so much of His time on earth talking about it.) I have
felt the consequences of these sins for years, I’ve confessed them, yelled at
them, run from them, and at times escaped them, only to be, well, “beset”
again.
It happened again last weekend, but this time God decided to
have a little fun with me.
I’ve been exercising my besetting sins with a family I’ve
known for about three years. Their “crime”? From my high and mighty throne, I
concluded that the parents worked too much and shirked their parenting
responsibilities to a teenage nanny. I didn’t even know their names, yet I had
made quick judgments about who they were and how I didn’t approve. Then, last
Friday night, I discovered more about who they really are. I went to hear the
dad share his testimony, the kind of testimony that involves Navy SEALS and makes
CNN headlines. I learned that this family is incredible. Their jobs are
incredible. Their faith is super-duper incredible. Within an hour, I went from judging
them to admiring them.
But I was left with regret and shame. They pounced on me
like a ravenous attack dog, and I couldn’t shake them. Of course I repented to
God. I even confessed to two of my friends. One reminded me that my slate is
clean. “When we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our
sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness.” I can quote the scripture from
memory, but while my brain may have known I was free and clean, my slate still
felt awfully grimy. It lasted all day Saturday.
We go to church on Saturday night, but on this particular evening,
my husband decided to take us out to dinner to celebrate a recent milestone in
our family. This is how we found ourselves walking into a very random Chinese
buffet restaurant on the far side of town on this particular Saturday evening—a
restaurant we’ve never been to and will probably never visit again. Trying to
paint a picture for you of just how random this was. Got it? Except that the
randomness began to disappear as we walked inside and saw none other than the
family I’d been thinking about all day. Oh, God, you indeed like to have fun
with your kids.
The first voice I heard in my head was not fun at all. It
came from the attack dog, who apparently had followed me into the restaurant.
It said, “Oh, no! God’s going to make me go confess to these people. How
horrifying, but probably just what I deserve.” Then came the second voice in my
head, clearly from the Holy Spirit, who thankfully goes with me wherever I am:
“Relax, child. Be at peace. I’m giving you the opportunity to meet your brother
and sister in Christ and to enjoy one another.” And then a few minutes later
came this thought, the best of all: “You’ve been bearing your regret and shame
all day, and this is where it ends. You don’t need to carry it another second. I’ve
brought you here to take it from you, and in exchange I will give you a really
good story.”
And so He did. By the time we left the restaurant, I had
introduced myself to both of the parents and expressed my admiration, opening
the door for whatever relationship God may have in store for us in the future.
I won’t be the least bit surprised if our kids are in class together next year.
Wouldn’t it be awesome if I was actually
able to help this busy mom? Only our redeeming God could bring this story full
circle like that.
So take that, besetting sins. I am reminded that I have to
be watchful for you always. The Enemy is like a lion on the prowl, looking for
those who are not on guard, and I know how easily I fall prey to his
temptation. But I am not a slave to those sins. They do not control me or
define me. A very high price was paid to clean my slate, and it’s that reality
that defines me and gives me peace. I am not beset!
