Day 21

Today is Saturday.  And every Saturday on my commute to work, I pass by his place.

He is Number Four, and for two years, I made that same drive to his place.  The same turns, the same lights, the same railroad tracks greet my angry heart every Saturday.

Tonight, the time drew near for me to meet my friend for coffee, and I packed my things, excited to see her, but emotionally unsteady.

I waited for her in the café, in our usual space against the wall, and watched as the rain fell.  Everything just looked darker.  I let my thoughts wander, meditating in—and almost relishing—my anger.  For everything he did, for everything I still feel, for the continuing ache, I was angry.  So when my friend arrived, she sat, we talked, and then she led me through Romans.  I did not anticipate that firecracker in chapter 11 that would set my world aflame.

For just as you were at one time disobedient to God but now have received mercy because of their disobedience, so they too have now been disobedient in order that by the mercy shown to you they also may now receive mercy.

I see it as unfortunate that I credit much of my salvation to watching the life of a Pharisee.  I saw the outward actions, the good deeds, the right words, but I knew his heart.  I saw what it meant to live a double-life, and it lit a fire in me to keep me from living that lie.

When I saw this verse, something clicked.  I saw the relationship between the Jews and the Gentiles.  A Jew, in this book, was someone who upheld laws, expecting to be saved because of their righteousness—not their love of Christ.  Gentiles were compared to Abraham, who was saved alone by his faith in God.  I had an eerie feeling I was reading my own story.

If he is a Jew and I am a Gentile, then I came to Christ because he stumbled.  Through his trespass, my salvation has come, and according to the book, my coming to Christ would have caused an uproar in his heart—a jealousy.  God used the Jews to reach the Gentiles and the Gentiles to bring Israel back to Christ.

My friend said tonight, “Our God is a God of second, third, and fourth chances.”  If God gave me another chance, He gives everyone another chance—including my ex, even if I don’t want to admit it, it’s the truth.

For who has known the mind of the Lord, or who has been his counselor? Romans 11:34

I’ve heard it all my life.  God works in mysterious ways.  I would never have guessed this is how I could come to Him.  If, in his trespass against me, he brought me to Christ, then how can I hate him?  How can I hate him, but claim to love God if that was God’s way of bringing me to Him?

As I read on, I felt God urging me to listen.

Note then the kindness and the severity of God: severity toward those who have fallen, but God’s kindness to you, provided you continue his kindness. Romans 11:22

It doesn’t read, “God is going to be kind to you no matter what you do.”  We are told to be kind, because God is kind to us.  His kindness is contingent on our kindness to others.  He expects us to be kind to our brothers as He has so gracefully been kind to us.

And if I really want to love and honor God, I have to do this.  I have to understand that I didn't deserve kindness or grace or salvation, and yet, God has been so kind, so full of grace, and redeeming.  What is the right thing to do, Jamie?  You know.

I highly doubt that it's by coincidence that his house in en route to my Saturday branch.  Not in a place that I drive by every day, but juuust often enough that it pricks my soul and both reminds me and pushes me toward the change that must take place in my heart.