One reason why people don't come to church

I stood in front of my chair yesterday morning at the 11 o'clock service singing the song, and I felt a sting in my heart.

It was a familiar pain. A good pain. And it caused me to think...."What exactly is this ache I feel on Sundays, when I open my heart up to Him in His presence?"

Do you know what I'm talking about?

I haven't always felt this sting in church. I used to fall into a category of church-goers whom I think are more or less immune. You know the category; those who are attending to have an experience, to "feel good," to spectate, enjoy a little holy concert, get a little inspired for the week, and then go out to lunch afterwards. Do I ever understand that person! I was that person for years. And I don't think it's necessarily a bad thing, as long as it's just a step in one's maturity (and not a destination). Those years were simply a portion of my journey.

I mean, I do enjoy the music, the donuts, the chit chat, and the inspiration. But that's no longer why I'm there. That stuff is sort of the icing on the cake, you could say. I look forward to going to church these days to meet with God. To fellowship with Him, personally. Of course, I can do that anywhere. But it's so easy under His roof. There are no distractions. Brothers and sisters are serving me there, leading me into worship, teaching me something new about Him, and there are quiet times when I can hear His voice.

When I walk in those doors, I lay my heart on the table, expecting Him to show up.

He does. And oh, it stings.

Friends, tell me you hear me on this. I want more than anything to be loved on and changed by Jesus, and that means I have to expose myself. I bring my whole heart. The problem is my heart is never perfect. I might feel a little proud of how the week's gone, in terms of my parenting or whatever. But the second I open up Sunday morning to my Creator, my One True Love, I can't help but feel the grime of my humanity. In His presence, I immediately know I've missed the mark.

Did you know that the word "sin" is an archery term that means just that? When an archer shot an arrow that didn't hit the bulls eye, the judge would yell "sin!" The arrow missed its mark.

God's mark is perfection. No matter how good my week goes, on Sunday I know I've missed His mark. There's always this moment when I open up, inside. He meets me, I feel the sting of my sin, I grieve it for a moment, and then I let His grace wash over me. It's a quick process, but necessary. By the way, He's not ever bringing to mind my sin in specifics right then. I just have a sudden awareness of being so human, so broken, compared to Him.

Now let's imagine that I didn't have a strong familiarity with the truth that under Jesus, my sin is forgiven and I can stand before my Creator blameless. I look perfect wearing Jesus' righteousness. Let's just say that was me. I can tell you I would NEVER want to step foot in church. Why would I want to face my failure in missing the mark again and again? No amount of good music or inspiration can counteract that kind of inner shame.

Imagine your friends and family who don't know Jesus. I don't care how they've talked their way around the concept of sin and missing God's mark. Unless they are coming in the doors of a church with a heart of stone, they feel ashamed to be there. For a second, I FEEL ASHAMED TO BE THERE. But I know I'm forgiven and it's all good. Of all the excuses, I'm starting to believe this unresolved shame is the main reason our friends and family stay away.

So the lesson, for me, as I thought of all this yesterday, is simply confirmation of Jesus' greatest command. LOVE. It's the only way a person drowning in their shame might choose to come to church, if they have a mustard seed of faith that God is Love. And it's my job to tell them so. I almost typed "And it might be my job to tell them so." No. There's no "might be." It is my job. (Matt 28:18-20)   

Truth be told, that's what gets me to church, freely, habitually laying everything on the table week after week, sting after sting. I love our worship team. I deeply appreciate our children's ministry. And the teaching from the pulpit is straight from God's word.

But I want to be there, I push through the sting, because I know He loves me. That's it.

 {Linking up with my girl Laura a little late b/c I thought

tomorrow was Monday, but guess what, today is.}

Grace on a Thursday: the roots that touch everything else

I do plan to get back to the discipline series, because there is more to say there. And I thought I'd tie in this week's Grace on a Thursday by talking about how important understanding and using grace in our discipline is. But I can't ever seem to force my words into a box, even when it's a good plan, when they just won't go.

Instead, I need to go deeper today. If you don't want to go there too, then just sit this one out. But I know I have to, and there must be a reason.

I heard a definition on the radio that got me. It was merely a snippet. But I heard the speaker say, "Shame is the fear of being unlovable."

Really? I thought. Is that in fact what it is? Because I think a lot about shame, guilt, and the other really common weeds in our hearts whose roots seem to touch everything else. And as I dug down inside myself, I started to agree. Shame comes when we make mistakes and we decide those things make us less lovable.

Fact is I am not aware that I am making a decision, an agreement, if you will, in allowing shame in. I'm connecting wrong dots: making the mistake equals being less lovable. It's a connection based on a lie. And this beautifully crafted though insidious lie laughs in the face of God and WHO HE IS:

God is Love.

His nature, His being shouts LOVE.

But shame says "Yes, I know, but that's not for me."

You'd never know it by looking at me. Well, you sorta do look at me, through this bloggy window. I'd bet some of you think I have it all together. That I wake up full of joy everyday ready to cook, clean, craft and hug everyone in my path. I WISH. Really, I so wish it were that easy. But some days, I'm so melancholy, I can't accomplish anything. Some days, I can't pull out one generous word to give my husband; we get lost in logistics and the business of life. Sometimes, I hate cooking, and nothing inspires me. It's okay to feel those things sometimes, of course. But for me, I know that at times, the roots of those kinds of "bad days" are because I'm getting tangled up in the enemy's lies. Wondering what's wrong with me. Feeling weighed down, empty, and unloved. Unlovable.

Sometimes I fold those fears up and tuck them away like out of season clothes shoved into the dark recess of my closet. They aren't healed. The lies aren't broken. Just buried. In my everyday relationships with other women, I can sometimes see another's shame tucked away. She doesn't even know it's there anymore. She doesn't recognize how the roots touch everything else.

Shame is the fear of being unlovable.

Thank God we have grace this Thursday, ready to take a hatchet to those lies and a bright light to those fears tucked away in darkness.

Go there with me. Pull out the worst, oldest things. Things you are quite sure mean you will be loved less. I'm not even going to give examples. The reason we know what those things are is because the Accuser brings them up to us all the time. Take some time and draw near to God. Expose those things to grace: it is the favor we don't deserve. Giant, powerful, life-changing favor. His word says that because of what Jesus has done for us, by paying for our sin and shame on the cross, we can confidently approach the throne of grace.

Grace is the only remedy. No substitute or counterfeit salve can truly bring healing.

Now go here with me:

Nothing I can do or ever will do could make God love me less.
Nothing will keep Him from singing for joy over me.
Nothing I do in weakness will ever come close to reversing what He's done in strength.

My Heavenly Father is bursting with love for me. And that's the way it's gonna stay.

Grace on a Thursday: Blind spots

Lately, I'm literally in my house a lot more than I ever have been. Before I had kids, I worked a full-time job. And since having kids, nearly ten years ago, I've been busy with them. As of last month, I have a new set up called They Are In School Until 2 Every. Day.

So in my added time, I've been working harder at keeping my house clean. For many years, I had a bit of hired help, but I've been on my own for the last couple. A few days ago, I was cleaning in my son's bathroom, and noticed something I'd never seen before. There was a faint ring of grime inside his tub, like where the water level would be when full. In fact, it is more tangible than visible, gritty from hard water deposits, dirt, and soap residue.

I've never noticed it. And in that moment, I had a choice to make. Do I feel badly for not being cleaner, shaming myself for negligence? (What a tempting choice for this over-achiever!) Or do I choose grace for myself, knowing that God may very possibly be opening my eyes to this mess simply because I now have the resources to do something about it?

I was instantly aware of Jesus next to me in that moment. Smiling. Saying, "Guess what? This has been here. This dirt. Before, you had too much on your plate to tend to it, so I allowed you a blind spot. And now, since you have the space in your life to handle it, I've gently opened your eyes. Please take care of this new job, okay? Because now you have what it takes."

What grace, I tell you. What kindness to me. Seriously, do you see it? Isn't this the case for many, many other things that we encounter in life? It took this little thing in the bathroom for me to put the pieces together in the bigger picture, to realize this is going on all the time. God allows us blind spots, he covers our eyes to our dirt until He has lovingly, generously equipped us to handle the problem with success!

How do you think we would feel if God let us see everything we were failing at all at once? Can you imagine how overwhelmed we'd be by our sin and our limitations? I can hardly bear the weight of one thing at a time. My shame-meter wants to skyrocket over the bathtub grime. How much more would I feel crushed if He exposed every dark corner of my heart to me? I mean, we're ALL aware that there are closets of brokenness in us that we don't even know about, right? Unhealed injuries and wrong beliefs all awaiting their turns to be brought into His cleansing light...in His careful, appropriate and loving timing.

Two huge encouragements came out of this realization for me. One, that any challenge currently in my life is something God not only knows I can deal with, but has personally equipped me with the resources to succeed. It is agreeing with a lie of Satan to say, "I can't handle this!" or "I can't take it any more!" Those are beliefs our enemy would LOVE for us to agree with, because they are statements of defeat. Perhaps God is not necessarily making the circumstances easier for us because He expects us to lean on Him while we endure.

Second, I have been reminded that having blind spots is part of where God wants me to be. He is patient with my growth, not in any hurry to perfect me all in one week. That is grace, being lavished on my undeserving self every day. Can you imagine how my son or daughter would feel if I wrote out a long list documenting every area of their character and behavior that needed improvement? God would never parent us that way. He has me exactly where He wants me today, and He is fully in charge of where I am to be tomorrow. Who am I to rush ahead of His plans for my growth? Who am I to question how and when I should "be over" this thing or that thing? 

The one phrase coming into my head all the time lately fits here as well: these things take time. And grace is happy to give it to us. Take some for yourself today too. It's free.

Grace on a Thursday: My gripe with the Christian talk show host

I often have my car radio set to a Christian station during the day (I even did this VLOG about it while actually sitting in my car). I'm almost never in the car at night, so last night when I got in the car to go to a meeting (one which could have been entitled "Two Hours Where We State the Obvious," but I digress) I found myself listening to a call-in program I'd never heard before. There were about three hosts answering questions of a theological nature. I caught one young lady caller asking what to do about her deep guilt over a habitual sin in her life. There was no question what she kept doing was wrong. She stated she didn't want to, but would return to the sin over and over again. She said, "Like 100 times I've messed up again." And the guilt was eating her up.

One host started off addressing her issue by saying, "Well, guilt is a good thing..." And I am gonna stop right there. Because this is Grace on a Thursday, I will try my best to give this chap grace, and presume he didn't actually mean what he said. Because I could not disagree more. Guilt is never a good thing. Never. And honestly, I've heard that said so many times that I knew it needed to be my topic this week.

Conviction is the good thing. Conviction points us to improvement, and comes directly from the Lord who is at work in our hearts. Guilt is condemning and shameful, seeks to hold us down, and comes from the pit of hell.

Here's my little test. When I make a mistake, what goes through my head?

Guilt says, "I can't believe I did that! How could I have lost it AGAIN? I'm such a _______."
Conviction says, "UGH that was so wrong. I'm so sorry. Thank goodness God will give me another chance."

Guilt says, "That just proves I really am a mess."
Conviction says, "I need Jesus to remind me who I really am."

Guilt says, "I'll never get it right. This is a lost cause."
Conviction says, "I am so needy. Lord grant me forgiveness and fill me with truth because I am lost without you."

Guilt says, "Seems like all I do is hurt that person."
Conviction says, "I made a bad choice, and with the Holy Spirit, I can choose better next time."

Guilt is a dead end. I feel that guilt has an insatiable quality. In other words, you can never feel enough guilt. And it comes with a very personal despair. Conviction, on the other hand, is first a grieving for one's mistake, and then is an arrow pointing to growth and change. There is a HUGE difference.

One is graceless. One is grace-FULL.

I will say this, though. This work of the Holy Spirit in our hearts, this continual pruning and grace-covering, is only offered to those who allow Jesus to be in charge of their lives. All of the above is defined by whether or not a person has been redeemed - and is ultimately guiltless - by Jesus' death and resurrection. If a person doesn't believe their sin has been paid for once and for all by Jesus and the cross, then they remain guilty before a holy and perfect God.

The big, giant "However" is that if a person has believed, has confessed he or she is in need of a savior, and is walking with God, there is no need to tolerate guilt or condemnation. A guilty Christian is not a Biblical concept, and it cheapens what Jesus has done for us. His tremendous sacrifice was enough. He took off my garments of guilt and has clothed me in HIS righteousness. It's not because of anything I've done or earned. It's in spite of what I've done and earned. And for me to feel guilty for my sin is to go backwards and buy into lies about who I am.

And yet I do it all the time. I go down the road of tolerating - heck, fully agreeing with - the accusations against me when I make mistakes. They seem so darn logical and deserved. You know I have all that shame nonsense spinning in my head.

But God generously offers me grace, always picking me up once again. Washing off my guilt and shame, encouraging me to try just one more time to make the better choice. And because of His great, great care, sometimes I manage to get it right.

The Bible says it's God's kindness that brings us to repentance. (Romans 2:4)

Guilt never brings us anywhere but down.

{if you struggle with guilt or shame, like I tend to, here's a post I wrote about something I learned not long ago that meant a lot to me.}

Two remedies for shame

I have been anxious to sit down and write this post all day. After yesterday's post, I've been mulling over my thoughts on shame and what I've learned in the past few months regarding it.

This post contains truth I've learned recently that can and will change my life. It's that important, and it is a perfect example of the Lord providing me the tools I need.

Just for a little background, remember a couple months ago I went to our church's women's retreat? Well I did. (You can refresh your memory here.) Before I went, I was also contemplating going to a conference for Christian writers and bloggers called She Speaks. I have a very subtle, way down deep idea that God may want me to write more than just blog posts. That maybe I'm being prepared for something beyond the scope of my words in this space. I'm open to His ideas, and curious about them.

Also, I know that the Bible speaks a lot about telling others of God's great work in our lives. If He has loved me, changed me, shown up for me, then part of my story is certainly to give Him glory by encouraging someone through sharing that experience. I've known this for a long time, so I'd say over the past 15 years, I've felt an ever-growing conviction about telling God's stories. In fact, that conviction is part of why I'm passionate about this lil' blog.

So I went to the women's retreat with that mental backdrop. On Saturday night, during a message that was not really speaking to me all that much, the speaker threw out a verse from Revelation so casually. It was even off topic. That verse may have been the whole reason I was there that weekend. (Remember, Revelation is a record of visions John saw regarding the end times.) Here is the verse with some more context:

And the great dragon was thrown down, the serpent of old who is called the devil and Satan, who deceives the whole world; he was thrown down to the earth, and his angels were thrown down with him.

Then I heard a loud voice in heaven, saying, "Now the salvation, and the power, and the kingdom of our God and the authority of His Christ have come, for the accuser of our brethren has been thrown down, he who accuses them before our God day and night.

"And they overcame him because of the blood of the Lamb and because of the word of their testimony, and they did not love their life even when faced with death."

Revelation 12:9-12

The speakers voice faded into nothing in my ears. I instantly had this image of my arch enemy standing before the throne in heaven, day and night, accusing me and all believers. I saw it. I felt it. And I knew it to be true. Picture it. Can you hear the accusations? (Perhaps you heard some today.)

Did you hear what she just said? What an awful mother. I can't believe she's even a parent. Wow, is she screwing up their lives.

Her husband doesn't care about her anyway. She's just not what he needs. He'd much rather have someone different.

She is just spinning her wheels, not making any difference to anyone.

She doesn't have any real friends, and she'd lose the ones she has if she were any more vulnerable. What a mess. 

She is just a big fraud. If anyone really knew what was going on, she'd be an embarrassment.

Going to church? Bible study? What a waste of time. Nothing's ever going to change. It's just too late for her.

I fought back the ugly cry in that moment, when the speaker had already gone onto another topic. I knew it all too well, how that dark, deceitful spirit presses me down with lies. Thick, cloudy, bold-faced lies.

But the ugly cry was not for the shame I regularly battled. It was actually for joy, because of the remedies spelled out in the passage. I was so humbly thankful for the two things, the two specific weapons God clearly showed me that I could wield against the Accuser: the blood of the Lamb, and the power of my testimony.

Do you see the pieces coming together for me here? I hope I am doing the Lord justice with this story because it is amazing how in His great compassion, He saw my shame, and He handed me the tools I needed to fight.

"And they overcame him because of the blood of the Lamb..."

My first weapon is the blood of Jesus. I can claim redemption because blood was shed for me. The resurrection happened; we just celebrated it a few weeks ago. For shame to begin to dissolve, I need only recall that my spiritual debts are cleared once and for all. The Accuser has nothing on me. My sin has been removed from me as far as the east is from the west. There is no accusation that the blood can't cover. Period.

"Now there is NO condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus."
Romans 8:1

"...and because of the word of their testimony."

My second weapon is the power of my testimony. Let me just say that as soon as I share a bit of my story, whether in a blog post or over coffee with a friend, I feel stronger. The accusations stop because I am focused on God's work in the bigger picture, and I feel useful to Him. Friends, don't underestimate the power of your testimony not only to affect someone else's life, but to protect your own soul from the Accuser! It is so important to be willing to speak out the ways the Lord is at work in our lives. It helps both the speaker and the hearer to remember what life is all about. It is all from Him and through Him and to Him (Romans 11:36). The Accuser's big trick is to get us to focus on ourselves; one big pity-party is all we need to open ourselves up to attack.

If you at all resonated with my last post, you cannot afford to let go of your two weapons, the blood of the Lamb, and the power of your testimony. Use them, and then encourage me to, since I so easily forget! We are fighting the same fight, sisters. Let's shake off the shame God never intended for us to bear, and then watch each other's backs.

I almost cancelled Mother's Day

I almost did it.

Saturday was such a bad day for me as a mom that I almost said, "I'm over it! I will NOT celebrate Mother's Day with you people (my children) because you don't care about me as your mother and you do not respect my voice!" I was such a struggler. Whew.

At the time, I was writing this post in my head, chronicling every gory detail of the window between 2 and 6 p.m. when my house and all the people in it turned upside-down in chaos, tears, defiance, consequences, a bad fall (my son fell, trying to leap from the couch to the coffee table and started screaming, "I broke my leg! I broke my leg!" I was inclined to believe him, since he actually has had a broken leg before. But he didn't break his leg. Thank you, God.) family discord, messes everywhere, a missed appointment due to said chaos...need I go on? But a lot of the detail is lost now. I guess I should be glad it's been washed from my memory!

So I didn't want Mother's Day for two reasons. I didn't feel like anyone cared about the mother that I was, and also, part of me was convinced that all the chaos was proof that I was failing at the job anyway. Completely failing.

Because how could things be going so badly if I were a 'good' mom? How could my children be so disobedient and disrespectful if I were doing my job properly? My anger and mistakes and weakness must be ruining all my attempts at raising healthy adults. Right? I couldn't get these thoughts out of my head.

You know what all those thoughts are called? In a word, shame. The familiar, favorite tune my enemy likes to sing to me when the downward spiral begins. I feel like I need to be totally vulnerable with you here to share that Saturday, after all hell was breaking loose, I was covered in feelings of shame. Drowning, and totally succumbing to its power to sink me. Which means I was standing in the kitchen doing dishes and weeping. My typical grown-up discretion was gone. I was flat-out defeated.

I know that doesn't happen to everyone. It is just my thing. Some people struggle with self-confidence, some get overcome with worry, some are incapacitated by anxiety. My battle is with shame. I know in my mind it is inappropriate. I know most of the time it is not logical or spiritually sound. I know I am redeemed by Jesus and that He has paid the penalty for all my mistakes. However, I just don't yet know how to conquer the power of negative emotion I feel when chaos ensues and it looks to be all my fault. It makes motherhood - an occupation riddled with chaos - at times, very hard for me.

I think part of the reason is that when I was younger, a lot of things came easily for me. For one, I got really good grades in school. I was used to receiving excellent report cards every few months. This went on throughout my school career (well, there were some exceptions in college). That equals a long history of someone telling me what a good job I was doing. Naturally, I left college, entered the adult world, and began looking for my report cards.

I found them, most certainly. Appropriate or not, I found them. In my job reviews, in the birthday cards people gave me, in the words of my husband. Wow, are you seeing the problem with this pattern? And as much as I've grown in my three decades of life, a part of me still longs for a "good review." So is it all that surprising that when my kids are completely bouncing off the walls that I feel like a big failure? No! It kinda makes sense, in a twisted way. As mothers, we make the mistake of looking to our kids' words and actions as a kind of performance review.

I get it, and yet I know it is wrong. It is so very dangerous for me to be looking to my children (or anyone, for that matter) to reflect my level of success. They are simply broken, selfish people too, and while I have a responsibility to give motherhood everything I can, I am not responsible for their every mistake. They have free will, and the only one to whom I answer is the Lord.

I am not freeing myself or any other mom from the basic God-given responsibility to raise her children with a healthy balance of truth and grace. Of course not. But Saturday I was getting really confused. I started to think Mother's Day had something to do with a report card on me as a mom. I was believing the lie that I wasn't measuring up. I forgot to listen to what the Lord had to say about me as a mom. He hired me in the first place, didn't He? Were children my idea or His? Were they my creations or His? Oh, how I forgot that it is all about Him! His plan, His children, and His performance review.

Really friends, His feedback is the kindest, most forgiving, encouraging feedback I'll ever receive. He gently corrects when I'm off. He gives me great ideas when I'm out of them. He lifts me up when I'm feeling tired and defeated. He gives me every tool I need for my life. In fact, the way He honors me as a woman and as a mother, filling in where I am deficient, the Lord makes me feel like Mother's Day is every day.

He is celebrating me because I am doing the job I've been called to do: parent His children. And I'm doing it to the best of my ability. He is celebrating you too, if you're doing the jobs you were called to do. Not for the quality of job you're doing in your life. Not for how close to perfect you are. Simply for who you are.

The Lord honors mothers. He knows how hard it is to shape willful, stubborn children into mature adults. And so He is an ever-present help for us. As difficult as it may be, I am so thankful He gave me the chance to be a mother, if only to see how well He parents me. Knowing more of His love for me as my parent gives me the strength I need to try to love my children in the same way.

Each day, I have a new chance to love them as I have been loved. What a privilege. What a thing worth celebrating.

I hope you had a Happy Mother's Day.   

Teachable Moment: Ashamed

Yesterday we were doing some housework. I went upstairs to find my eight year old daughter hanging her head. I asked her what was wrong. Silence with a guilty expression was returned. I recognized that guilty expression and knew to tread lightly, holding my emotion back for fear of damaging the trust I needed to preserve at that moment. I asked again. What was going on? She mumbled, "I'm afraid you'll get mad." I replied, "I promise I won't get mad. I may be disappointed, but I won't get mad." She said, "I'm still scared. What if I write it down?" After I agreed, she disappeared and returned a few minutes later with this:



Apparently, for the last week or so, instead of hanging up all her clothes, she'd been shoving them into the back of the closet, under the rest of the hanging clothes. It was a lot of clothes. This child changes multiple times a day, and half the clothes were ones she'd not actually worn, just tried on and decided against. In addition, we've been down this road before. She's done the shoving thing on a small scale every now and then. So she knew the rule: No shoving your clothes to the back of the closet. But she had shoved, again and again, hiding each mistake until she had a mountain up to her waist when it all came out.

And a mountain of shame in her heart. After she handed the note to me, she jumped into bed and pulled the covers over her head while I read it. Her eyes were red when I uncovered her. At this point, the imaginary sirens were going off in my head indicating that this was a teachable moment I must not pass up. So I did all the loving things I could think of. I gave her a big hug, I offered forgiveness, I said I'd help her with her mess. But she burst into tears. I said, "Honey, are you crying because you're bummed out at having to hang up all your clothes, or because you're feeling ashamed?" She whimpered, "Ashamed." into my side.

I've never seen my child harbor shame quite like yesterday. I couldn't patch it up with a hug and a helping hand. She had a deeper need. I needed to address her shame and show her how to deal with it. And frankly, I was not prepared for that. (Incidentally, I'm never prepared for teachable moments. Don't think that I rehearse these kinds of conversations in my head ahead of time. But God is always prepared, and always gently prods me forward, giving me surprisingly appropriate things to say. Honestly, I'm surprised. Not by Him, but by my part in it all.)

I couldn't approach my daughter's issue of shame without thinking of my own. What about my pile of sin? What do I do when God reveals something I've been hiding, that's been shoved to the back of the closet? When He exposes something I'd rather not face, it's not fun. I know how she feels. Don't we all experience the burden of guilt from time to time?

But then there's Jesus. Galatians 5:1 says "It is for freedom that Christ set us free." While feeling sorry for our mistakes is one thing, as followers of Jesus, we are not meant to wallow in shame. In eight year old language, I explained this to my daughter. Jesus took away our sin on the cross so that we would be free from feeling ashamed. I told her that the Bible says when you accept Jesus' gift of forgiveness, it's as if you put on His clean, white robe. So when God looks at you, that's all He sees. Your mistakes are totally covered because Jesus is perfect. But here's the thing: even though God always forgives you, He wants you to learn how to make better choices. And the reason you want to make better choices is not because I say you should, or to make me happy. The reason you want to stop shoving your clothes is because you're thankful Jesus gave you His robe.

Something in my little speech clicked, and it seemed my daughter crossed over from shame to freedom. And on about the day we went, simple as that. In fact, she diligently spent over an hour cleaning up her pile without complaint.

I think a lot of us struggle with shoving. We have habits or vices that we keep choosing, and then keep shoving. It can even be something subtle that you're simply leaving room for in your life, like complaining or envy. (OK, maybe you aren't, but those are just two I sometimes make room for.) Don't be afraid to invite God into that closet, even if you have to write it in a note. On Hello Kitty paper. My daughter had a perfect example for us in her two part confession: "I'm sorry," and "I need help!" God is so happy to help you pull the junk out and clean up the mess. Then you and I can show off our matching white robes.