I can’t believe I am going to admit this, much less type it in such a public forum but . . . this summer marks the 16th anniversary of my high school graduation.

There is a lot about high school that has become a blur, but there are some moments that stick out clearly in my mind.

I don’t think I’ll ever forget Mr. Harper, my 11th grade honors English teacher, the way he pushed me to write, always challenging me. He exposed me to books I would never have read otherwise.

I remember a rather interesting assignment following the reading of The Scarlet Letter. After discussing in depth the sin and audaciousness of Hester Prynne, Mr. Harper led us in the project of choosing our own sin. Our scarlet letter if you will. We were to pick one letter from the spelling of our particular issue and draw it on a piece of paper. We then took our page, taped it to ourselves and during class change, we stood in the quad on a chair, bearing our letter for all the passersby to see.

I remember being mortified as I stood there with my big letter “I” praying no one would figure out what my letter stood for, the shame of the sin emblazoned upon my shirt.

You know what I love about God?

He takes the sin, the ugliness that all the world sees and He casts it into the sea of forgetfulness.

And then he tell us, His children, who should never forget the sin we each were cleansed from:  Love . . . Doesn’t keep score of the sins of others . . . 1 Corinthians 13:5

He had to write it in His perfect, infallible word, to not keep score of the sins of others.

You know why? Because he knows I”m imperfect and fallible, that I forget the sin I’ve been cleansed of.

And then if that isn’t enough, if I’m not careful, I begin to count and record the sins of others. Mainly my husband.

Instead of remembering what it was like to stand in the quad on that chair in all it’s vulnerability, I climb up on that chair as I lord over my husband and his sin.

Anyone else know what I”m talking about?

How much easier is it to count his transgressions, when I’ve been the wounded party. When his words, choices and lack of sensitivity have hurt me deeply.

1, 2, 3 . . . 1,001, 1,002, 1,003 . . . And the list continues.

The list continues as mercy gives way to bitterness and resentment.

It takes the hard chisel of God’s gentle discipline to remind me of something powerful.

My husband is not his sin. And neither is yours.

And because we serve such a mighty God, I’m not my sin either.

Ladies, we have to free our husbands from our judgmental observations, truly learning to love and embrace them the way they are.

While they ultimately are sinful, even making choices that hurt us, we must decide to point them to the freedom of the Cross not the condemnation of  our heavy hands.

Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus . . . Romans 8:1

Ladies, are you willing to put aside your feelings, your list of “deserves” and offer to your husband what he least deserves, your forgiveness and grace?

Do not judge, and you will not be judged. Do not condemn, and you will not be condemned. Forgive, and you will be forgiven. Luke 6:37


Photo courtesy of  Pong @ freedigitalphotos.net