As a kid, several years ago now, I grew up in the small, bedroom
community of Martinez, California where residents left their doors unlocked,
because crime was almost nonexistent.
Killings and kidnappings never occurred.
People looked out for one another in an environment where children felt
safe in their surroundings. Trust was
everyday living; a virtue, not like some of today’s restless communities where
widespread chaos and disorder run unbridled.
Crime and mayhem not only lurk in the shadows of night, daytime
offenses are becoming the norm. The lack
of values and morality are quickly polluting our neighborhoods with the stench
of hatred, looming like a garbage dump that you can smell for blocks. It is called sin. But where sin abounds, the grace of God
abounds even more.
In my youth, people respected each other’s property and a person’s word
was their bond. A simple handshake
sealed the deal without an attorney drawing up documents for everyone to sign. Times have changed and getting worse, because
of sin, but God still speaks peace in the presence of turmoil.
I have fond memories growing up, especially of my grandfather working
in his garden, hoeing and watering the plants by hand and picking a tomato or
two for me to enjoy as we talked about the week I had at school. Grandpa lived across the street from us and
was never too busy to take time with me.
He loved me and I loved him.
My dad found pleasure following in Grandpa’s footsteps, gardening. There was always something growing in our backyard
that he had planted, which rekindled sweet memories of Grandpa and the times we
had together.
Like Grandpa, Dad knew how to prepare for planting. He tilled the earth the old-fashioned way,
using a spading fork rather than a rototiller.
Turning the soil over by hand got the job done, but it was hard work.
As I matured and became stouter and stronger, on occasion I
surprised Dad by turning the soil and breaking up the dirt clods when he was at
work. It was backbreaking, manual labor
to say the least, but worth every blister and aching muscle just to see the
smile on his face—nice memories.
The one memory I do have will forever be in my nostrils, figuratively
speaking. Dad had a truckload of steer
manure delivered and dumped on the driveway in front of the entry door to our
house. It stunk to high heaven.
All the neighbors for blocks around could smell the poop. It was so bad that I thought my
nose hairs would fall out or the inner membrane would become damaged from
smelling it. It was the most unpleasant
odor I had ever smelled. I don’t know
where Dad bought the stuff, but in my opinion, they got the better end of the
deal.
This mound of pure dung had to be moved to the backyard to fertilize
the garden area. That meant several
trips with a wheelbarrow filled with smelly poop. Guess who moved it? Yep.
I wrapped a cloth around my nose, which did nothing to keep out the smell. I went to work spreading it evenly where Dad wanted it as he tilled it
into the soil. It seemed like I would
never get done, but in time the smell went away and we enjoyed the fruits of
our labor as the plants grew and provided their yield.
This experience reminds me of the stinking mound of sin that was piled
in front of my heart’s door. Jesus waded
through the disgusting filth to knock on my door. He told me that God would remove all traces
of sin and toss the rot into the sea of His forgetfulness, never to remember
them against me again.
I asked for forgiveness and the disgusting odor went away, because God
removed every spade full of sin, which freed me from the stench that everyone
around me could smell. I became a
born-again-Believer.
The problem I see with many Christians is hindsight-living; having
problems accepting the fact that when God forgives sin, He forgives all sin
forevermore.
I believe that people are haunted with past memories of sin. They find themselves having pity parties
again and again, wishing they would have done things differently. I call this kind of nerve-racking agony,
“the-do-betters,”… if only I… I should not have… Maybe you are one being tormented with past
woes that can fill in the empty spaces.
Perhaps you find yourself pleading with God over and over to forgive
certain things, whereas, the dregs of the cup have already been tossed
out. Remember, God forgives all sin
forevermore. We cannot do anything about
our past, but we do have the Holy Spirit to lead us into all truth today.
In my imagination I see individuals diving deep into God’s sea of forgetfulness
wearing scuba gear and grasping a sand bucket and shovel to scoop up the
sediment of forgiven sins, dive after dive.
I watch as they pour out the contents of the bucket on the altar before
God and Him saying, “What is this?”
God forgives and forgets our transgressions. Living in peace will happen when we stop
diving for past sins. Leave the dregs
where God put them.
We are cleansed by the blood of Jesus that He shed on Calvary
for our sins. We need to believe and
accept this truth. When we resist
Satan’s finger-pointing, the disquieting past will heal, because we are a
member of the family of God. The Lord
wants us to live in harmony, and certainly victory.
(James 4:7) “Therefore submit to God. Resist the devil and he will flee from you.”
The kids of today need to be introduced to the man that can remove all
garbage from their life and give hope where there is none. Jesus Christ is the only person that can do
this. He is the way, the truth, and the
life.
Written by,
Papa Boyd
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