It Was My Sin That Held Him There

It was early in the morning, well before the sun was up when my dad called me. I was fast asleep so I didn’t pick up the first time my phone rang beside my bed. Then, seconds later, it rang again. Maybe it was an emergency. I should probably pick it up.

So I did.

On the other end, my dad informed me that I needed to get up and get dressed. It was an emergency– someone had broken into my car, and the police wanted to ask me a few questions. So I quickly put on some clothes and headed to the crime scene. What was once an ordinary parking space was now lit up by the blue and red glow of the police cars surrounding my vehicle. Officers were already fingerprinting my car and capturing photos of the most minor-looking details.

What I remember most about that moment was the glass. It had shattered into a thousand tiny pieces that now covered my back seat and the ground near the rear window. The glass shards looked striking against the dark asphalt. At first, I didn’t think it was so bad. A broken window would be an easy fix. But after unlocking the car and looking inside, it was evident that the window– that now lay in pieces– would be the least of my problems.

My car was minutes away from being stolen. Parts of my vehicle had been misplaced. The ignition was pulled out. The wiring underneath my steering wheel was severely tampered with. I’m no mechanic, but I could immediately tell it wouldn’t be cheap to repair.

A few insurance calls later, I got the car towed and into the shop to begin the repair process. After a few days of inspection, I received the estimated cost. It was a substantial number for a few wires and a broken window. At this point, I was starting to wish I had gone with a lower deductible…

Not only was I dealing with the unexpected financial burden of getting my car fixed, but I was also still trying to find a job. It felt like a new weight had just been placed on top of what was already getting heavy for me to carry. But I reminded myself that I wasn’t carrying it alone.

Whenever something unfortunate happens, my first reaction is, “It could be worse.” I’m still subject to a rollercoaster of emotions, but I try to look for the “good” in the bad, even if it’s hard.

Despite being predisposed to this more positive outlook, 

I still wanted to cry out of frustration.
I still wished it had never happened to me.
I still blamed myself for something I knew was out of my control. (“Maybe if I parked my car somewhere else…”)

 It’s easy to surround myself with an army of unhelpful thoughts. And in moments of weakness, I’ll find myself listening to the pessimistic voice trying to break through my fortress of optimism.

Furthermore, at this time, I relied on unemployment checks while looking for my next job. I felt defeated when I found out that I was denied the remainder of my benefits since I didn’t have a “reliable mode of transportation.” For the sake of word count, what should have been a simple phone call turned into the loss of hundreds of dollars I was banking on having for a month of rent.

At this point, I had spent hours talking with insurance agents, repair technicians, and now, the South Carolina Unemployment Office. I just wanted it to be over. I wanted to have a pity party of one and binge my favorite show with a tissue box nearby. It hurt when I let my bank account try to comprehend of all the money it would never see again.

Why was this happening to me? Did I somehow deserve this?

Everything felt so unfair.
So off-kilter.
So far from the normalcy I craved.

I felt helpless as I continued to fight the raging waves that came in daily doses during this season. I felt abandoned in the deep end. It took me a few days to see things clearly again after all of the initial frustration, but I knew I needed to ask myself, “What could God be teaching me about this situation?”

So I did– And for the first time in my life, I felt the weight and the aftermath and the consequences of someone else’s sin. Someone else’s crime. Someone else’s free will.

All I did was park my car. But I’m the one paying for the cost of the damages.

All Jesus did was come down to save us. But He’s the one who paid for the cost of our sins.

My sin. My past choices and my future ones. My free will. Jesus never committed the acts that led Him to the cross. But it’s His innocence that absolves my guilt. And His perfect nature that covers my imperfections. It’s His sinlessness that acquits me of my sins.

 In Isaiah 53:5:

“But he was pierced for our transgressions,

    he was crushed for our iniquities;

the punishment that brought us peace was on him,

    and by his wounds, we are healed.”

My sin had to be paid for in full– sin that never belonged to Jesus. I’ll never be able to fully grasp or understand the weight that Jesus bore for me. He was judged for what I should be on trial for. He took on the sentence that had my name on it.

Whenever trials decide to walk into our lives, I believe it’s natural to wonder, “Why me? ” Life can make us feel inadequate to handle all that comes our way. Sometimes, it can feel cruel. We tell ourselves we don’t deserve these unwarranted seasons of life that make no sense. But what if every obstacle we faced, every challenge clothed in unfairness, and every test that tasted like near-defeat were only put in our paths to instill gratefulness for all the suffering and separation we are spared from?

Suffering that should have been a consequence of our sin. And separation from God– that should have been the ramification for the stain that sin leaves behind. But now both suffering and separation have been stripped away by the shed blood of the most perfect Lamb.

It doesn’t cost me to look up and recognize the merciful nature of my heavenly Father. It doesn’t cost me to slow down long enough to stand in awe of the reality that I will never have to wear the dirty rags of my own sin.

How beautiful is it that God rewrites our wrongdoings? How awesome is it that our offenses are overridden by the sacrifice of Jesus? How unfathomable is it that despite our shortcomings, we still have a seat at God’s table?

For a while, this situation blinded me to the point where all I could see was what happened to me, but now, all I can think about is what Jesus has so selflessly done for me.