When the Porch Light is Still On
Well, come on up here on this ol’ front porch, friend, and make yourself to home. Now you watch that there third board yonder. It plum squeaks louder than a lil’ ol’ barn cat caught rummagin’ around in the feed bin. It is a mighty great privilege to have you stoppin’ by here today. Some days our conscience does the same thing. We try to step around what we sho’nuff know is wrong, but guilt plum follows us like an ol’ determined hound dog with nothin’ else on its calendar.
Jonah plum knew that feeling. From the belly of the big ol’ fish, he prayed, “When my soul fainted within me, I remembered the Lord” (Jonah 2:7). That there’s the mercy tucked right inside repentance. You can be deep in trouble, far from where you meant to be, and still turn your face toward God.
David plum learned it, too. In Psalm 32:1-5, he describes the misery of hidin’ sin and the relief of confessin’ it. Keepin’ quiet about sin can wear a soul down like an ol’ work mule pullin’ a wagon uphill. Confession don’t ever inform God of somethin’ He might’ve missed. It simply opens the door we’ve been leanin’ against.
Here’s the heart of today’s message: “Who is a God like You, pardoning iniquity?” (Micah 7:18-19). God plum delights in mercy. He don’t forgive grudgingly like a lil’ ol’ raccoon surrenderin’ the last biscuit. He forgives because mercy is part of His character.
And when repentance gits to feelin’ difficult, remember Hosea 14:1, which says, “Return... to the Lord your God.” God’s invitation is not, “Clean yourself up and then come.” It is, “Come back.” Repentance just ain’t about havin to come crawlin’ home to a locked door. It’s about plum turnin’ around and findin’ the porch light already on.
Father, search my heart, show me what I need to confess, and give me courage to bring it honestly before You. Thank You for mercy that is greater than my failure and grace that restores my joy. Help me walk closely with You today. In Jesus’ name, Amen.
Alright now, friend, head on back into your day with this here message tucked down deep in your pocket. If a lil’ ol’ squirrel can forget where it buried half its acorns, you can sho’nuff’ stop diggin’ up sins God has already forgiven. If an ol’ Banty rooster can greet the sunrise after spendin’ all night long in the dark, you can rise up in fresh grace, too. Leave the guilt at the porch, take the mercy with you, and remember this: the road back to God is never longer than one honest turn of the heart.
With joy,
Gwen
