I will forever, I think, struggle with my forgiveness. To fuel the flame, in part, is the way my sins have been handled in the past by others... and even today. And, while I don't blame others - it's there, that's reality. I think that, since I struggle with sin (pride, anger, hate, lust - there's my confession for you, reader), since I've been saved out of the darker and hotter depths of our hellish earthly depravity, my new man will always and forever stand in awe... maybe, almost, unbelief.
Not the kind of cowardly unbelief that divorces my fiance, no. The real unbelief that leads to worship, worship of our mighty God who brought me near by the flesh and the blood of His attoning death on that filthy, blood stained and disgusting cross.
The cross was nasty. Chunks of flesh, chunks of blood, probably even human excretions of many kinds trickling down the wood. A Man - the God of the universe - let out His last dying breath. And there I am, at the foot of the cross. And my body is up there - my old man, dead. Romans 6 style.
And I will be raised up like Him on the last day
And it's a struggle. I told some friends, recently. I don't know what I'd do if I met people who have caused great hurt in the lives of those I love.
I used to think... maybe, I used to even say. In fact, most recently, I've thought and pondered aloud... What if the Lord saved one of these men?
and He has. like me. a wretch, no greater than him or anyone else. we're two wretches, almost damned but not anymore. I will spend eternity with you, jose.