On Saturday night, I had the privilege of reading the Scripture passage for Pastor John’s sermon. It was the entire chapter of Micah 7.

Six years ago, my life was saved by Piper’s exposition of Micah 7:8-9 in his book When I Don’t Desire God where he devoted an entire chapter to those two verses. Title?

How to Fight for Joy Like a Justified Sinner: Learning the Secret of Gutsy Guilt

At that time, I was under the tremendous guilt of my sin that drove me to a suicidal depression. The guilt was heavy on me of how I knew I fell short of God. I was told by someone very near to me that no one would be able to bear living with me due to the extent of my sin.

It was in these two verses that God faithfully shone light into my soul so that I could taste the beauty of what He promised me in His Word.

Rejoice not over me, O my enemy; when I fall, I shall rise; when I sit in darkness, the Lord will be a light to me.

I will bear the indignation of the Lord because I have sinned against him, until he pleads my cause and executes judgment for me. He will bring me out to the light; I shall look upon his vindication.

The guilt part is that he feels INDIGNATION and sits in DARKNESS. And he blames no one but himself. Yet, when he looks to judgment, instead of saying “He will pay me back,” he says “He will bring me out to the light; I will look on his vindication.” That’s gutsy.

To feel what you know you deserve, and then to claim forgiveness is gutsy. It’s gutsy guilt. Real guilt, real boldness. Beautiful to see them so paired together.

So it was with that verse that God reminded me that as long as I’m in Christ, the judgment my sin deserves has already been served by Jesus, and when God looks at me, He can justly and with no offense to anyone say, “Not guilty!”

That truth went from being a theological truth I understood with my mind to the sweetest morsel of goodness to my soul. It broke me and freed me and gave me such a joy that though I was so sorrowful then, I was always rejoicing.

At a time in my life where I was living in Oklahoma and had decided to die there (by my own hand, SO selfishly!), I thought I’d never get married, move to Minnesota, and experience the goodness of God in the land of the living.

And so it was last night that I felt the tremendous weight of the gracious gift that landed me 1) still alive, 2) married to a woman who has borne all the sin I was told no woman could ever bear, 3) living in Minnesota as an 4) apprentice in Bethelehem College and Seminary at 5) Bethlehem Baptist Church, reading 6) the same Scrupture passage before the sermon given by 7) the same man whose exposition of the passage was used by the Holy Spirit to save my life.

I just wept. It was a lot of Providence for my emotional constitution to handle. I’m surprised I managed to finish the passage, weeping as I did.

The more I live, the more I’m seeing that my life is a story with a beginning and end point, with lots of plot twists. Even the bad in my life, the kind of bad that brought me to the brink of ending my life, is another brush stroke on the canvas of a masterpiece, on which I make up a tiny speck. But taken as a whole, it is beautiful.

As my pastor has written:

Behold the mercy of our King
Who takes from death its bitter sting
And by His blood, and often ours
Brings triumph out of hostile powers.
When He is finished with His art:
The quiet worship of our hearts.
When God creates a humble hush
And makes Leviathan His brush
It won’t be long before the rod
Becomes the tender kiss of God.