I had gone to Texas on vacation to stay at a lakehouse that belonged to a friend of a friend. The family who owned it was incredibly sweet and hospitable - they picked me up from the airport, drove me to the lakehouse 2 hours away, stayed with me the first night, then offered to let me stay there by myself for the rest of the week -- even leaving me a car to use!
They left early the next morning, and as lunch time approached, I realized I needed to go grocery shopping. I got in the car, as I backed out of the garage, I hit the corner of the wooden retaining wall on the lawn and scratched the car up pretty noticeably. >.<
Shaken, I continued to the grocery store, and noticed on the drive back that something felt weird, but I couldn't quite put my finger on it. Hours later, when I went outside to take out the garbage, I noticed that I had knocked over a post...which had exposed some nails....which punctured my back tire, which was now hopelessly flat.
I was MORTIFIED. I was freaking out, mentally scolding myself, "HOW COULD YOU BE SO IRRESPONSIBLE??? They haven't even been gone for 24 hours yet and you've already broken something! They didn't even know you! They trusted you on a recommendation! You should probably go home right now because I wouldn't let me stay here!"
Trembling, I finally mustered up the courage to call the family. When the husband picked up, he asked, "Is something wrong?"
"I'm afraid so" (eeeeeek!)
"What happened?"
(I told him)
"Ok, so the tire's flat and the bumper's scratched up. Are you safe?"
"Oh. Yeah, I'm fine." (Wait....I'm more important than the car???)
"Good, that's most important. We knew that if anything happened to the car, you'd be safe." (Wait, you're not sending me home? You're not assessing my entire character on one incident?)
A bit reassured, I started sharing a bit of my internal lecture about being irresponsible. His answer has stuck with me to this day and radically changed a whole paradigm of thinking: "You weren't irresponsible. It was an accident. Accidents happen."
I wasn't irresponsible. What a HUGE contrast between what he was telling me and what I was telling myself! Here I was, flipping out, and to him, it really wasn't that big of a deal. He even offered to come out the next morning to change the tire - even though he had just driven home 2 hours away that day! (He ended up not needing to because they had AAA)
Over the next 4 days, I pretty much sat and stared out over the lake trying to wrap my mind around this grace he had shown me. I had felt so safe with him that I felt like even if I had taken the car the next day, totaled it, I could have called the family back without being afraid of getting kicked out of the house.
As I reflected on that security I felt with that family, I realized...this is the safety and freedom I'm supposed to feel with God because I have accepted Christ's trade: He died and took God's wrath for my sin upon himself, and I asked him to take over my life, and got off scot-free with his blameless life that warranted no divine punishment.
Romans 8:1 tells us, "Therefore there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus." I know it's true because it's scripture, but that is definitely not true of my experience with God. I live (and have lived) in constant condemnation. And then I realized....I live in condemnation not because God condemns me but because I heap it on myself...
...just like Dobby the house-elf from Harry Potter. Take a look:
It's not entirely clear in this clip why Dobby has to punish himself, but the book explains a bit:
"Dobby will have to punish himself most grievously for coming to see you, sir. Dobby will have to shut his ears in the oven door for this. Dobby is always having to punish himself for something, sir. They lets Dobby get on with it, sir. Sometimes they reminds me to do extra punishments ... "Like what I wrote in my last post (It's already been paid for), my sin has already been punished and paid for. I no longer have to bang my head against the wall when I forget to invite my students to an event, or "iron my fingers" because I didn't tell anyone about Jesus that week. I'm free, and I understand that on an intellectual level, but somehow, I find myself living like an enslaved house elf looking for things to punish myself for.
"But why don't you leave? Escape?"
"A house-elf must be set free, sir. And the family will never set Dobby free ... Dobby will serve the family until he dies, sir ... " (Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets)
"It is for freedom that Christ has set you free. Stand firm, then, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery." (Galatians 5:1).
Oh, for the day when my dense little heart finally understands what my head acknowledges!
Are you living in that freedom? If not, what keeps you?
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