I love Christmas lights. The kids and I purposefully drive out of our way to see them. I fill my home with all manner of lights: twinkly lights, welcome lights in the windows, and candlelight galore. (Yay, Yankee Candle!)

But you know, sometimes the light, that is meant to fill us with joy, fills us with dread instead—like the shepherds in Luke 2, who were petrified when the good news of great joy appeared.

Light can fill us with fear even when it was intended for joy.

Isn’t it true that sometimes the light hurts, and we’re more comfortable with things hidden and obscure? We are convinced that if people really could shine a light into our hearts, our minds, our beings, that they wouldn’t really love us. Who could possibly love someone with all that junk inside? So we hide and mask and hope that nobody gets too close to see our faults close-up.

I have a makeup mirror in my bathroom with a big ol’ light, and honestly, sometimes I dread looking in that thing close-up. It exposes and magnifies my flaws and it’s NOT pretty. Sometimes I dread my make up mirror, and the plucking and exfoliating that goes along with seeing my face for what it really is.

And isn’t that how we respond to the Bible sometimes, too? With dread?  As we draw closer to the Lord and see the truth about our hearts, we see:

  • the idols we’ve tucked away and wrapped like they are prize possessions we must hold on to at all costs,
  • or the self-pity that says we deserve more,
  • or the impurity of heart that keeps us from loving others,
  • or the pride that demands that people live according to my rules,
  • or the superiority that says that I know better and that others are inferior,
  • or the bitterness that has solidified from a spirit that won’t forgive,
  • or the unloving thoughts that stem from a cold heart,

All this is exposed, and we dread the work that it will take to remove it—the removing, the plucking, the repenting. Ignorance is easier, we reason, so we pretend we are OK (thank you very much).

The light may cause us to react in fear rather than joy, but this is just craziness.

The light is real life and truth.

And you know what? It’s Satan who wants you in darkness.

The light is freedom, but Satan would rather you think you’re living life to the fullest, while actually groping around in chains. He promises you the good life, when he’s actually got you in a bondage loop.

Darkness allows you to preserve your own appearance of goodness. Darkness keeps you isolated and on the fringe in relationships because isolation and fear walk hand in hand, and if Satan can feed you fear, he can control you.

Fear says:

  • You aren’t good enough, so don’t even try.
  • If they really knew your problems, they’d never accept you.
  • You are such a mess that God could never use you.

But the good news for those of us who have trusted in Christ Jesus is that there is no condemnation with Him. When God scrutinizes your life, he sees the blood of Jesus Christ. He looks on all your flaws and sees perfection. He knows all about you and loves you anyway. Amazing Grace.

Let that sink in.

Positionally, we are not under wrath. Positionally, we are perfect.

When you are angry with your kids or short with your husband, God sees you as a loving mother and wife.

When you struggle to prefer and honor your sister-in-Christ and selfishness rules your day, God sees you as loving her perfectly.

When you speak your mind and ruin a relationship with your sharp and sour “blurts intended to hurt”, God doesn’t mark you the sum total of your failures. He calls you “beloved.”

If that doesn’t make you fall down on your knees and worship, friend, I don’t know what will.

So, if you are in Christ, you can walk in the light as you are: a sinner with an awesome Savior.

You don’t need to pretend that you are not a sinner. Because when you do this, you minimize the grace that God has given for you. You’re saying, “Thanks for helping me out, but I could have done it on my own. I’m not too bad—not like those other sinners out there.”

Not only is that delusional, but it’s insulting. If God sent His Son to die for your sins, then THAT is how big a sinner you are. It took Christ to pay for your debt.

Think on these words from the hymn “His Robes for Mine” by Chris Anderson:

His robes for mine: O wonderful exchange!
Clothed in my sin, Christ suffered ‘neath God’s rage.
Draped in His righteousness, I’m justified.
In Christ I live, for in my place He died.

Chorus:

I cling to Christ, and marvel at the cost:
Jesus forsaken, God estranged from God.
Bought by such love, my life is not my own.
My praise-my all-shall be for Christ alone.

His robes for mine: what cause have I for dread?
God’s daunting Law Christ mastered in my stead.
Faultless I stand with righteous works not mine,
Saved by my Lord’s vicarious death and life.

© 2008 Church Works Media. All rights reserved.

The Christmas story is the beginning of the Calvary Story. Jesus isn’t just the baby in the manger: He’s the Savior of your soul, if you’ll trust His work on Calvary to appease the wrath of God on your behalf. The great exchange! Praise the Lord!

Originally posted December 20, 2018 on Joy-Filled Days.

Photo credit: KT on Unsplash.