Someone paid the price

Yesterday my husband and I were driving home through the back roads.  He simply asked "Should we go by?"  Of course I said yes.  Yes, let's drive by dad's house.  Today, as I drove back from Huntsville, I stopped at the stop sign on Hamblen Road and asked myself the same question "Should I drive by?" We ask ourselves if we should drive by my father-in-law's house.  We finally sold it a couple of weeks ago so I guess in essence, it's no longer paw paw's house...or ours.


When I asked myself that question I heard a resounding "No!" I heard in my mind "Let it go."  Why do we keep going back there?  We just drive by to see the new boxes and the unfamiliar cars parked in our driveway.  We go by to see new furniture through the undraped windows and trailer that hauls the boxes and we realize we no longer have the freedom to just walk in, we no longer have the right to call it our own anymore.


We do the same thing with our past.  Instead of moving on like God would have us do, we want to keep going back to the past, back to what was comfortable. We don't want to move on.  That place was comfortable.  We want to see what would have happened if we had stayed there. We just want to take a peek and remember how comfortable we were there.  We have to remember that some one paid for that house and it's not ours anymore.


Over two thousand years ago God paid the price for our sins.  He paid the price and he took it.  It is no longer ours.  Our sins are our own...our darkness, our faults, our failures-the price was paid and they no longer belong to us.  So let go.  Like me and my husband, some of you keep wanting to go back, maybe just to take a look, maybe just to wallow in memories of times past but God has taught that it is no longer ours.  Someone paid the price.


But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us. Romans 5:8 

Hiding Place

Sunday, I got a call from my father.  It was around 3:30pm.  He stated that a lady was at their house and she explained that she was a victim of domestic violence.  My father is a deacon at his church and my mom was home.  I told him that I would be there in ten minutes.  We had already settled in and were watching the game but I had to go help dad. 


When I arrived I spoke to the lady who I knew from the neighborhood.  Her injuries were serious.  She explained the situation, I called for medical attention and the proper authorities.  Her son was with her and she explained the fear of trying to protect her children. She stated "I didn't know where to go....the only place I knew I would be safe is with your parents."


It was a draining two hours.  Once she was checked out and the police did their thing, she drove herself to urgent care.  I told my parents I was leaving and they headed to Sunday night services.  As I drove back home, I began thinking of where we go to hide when we need a hiding place.  She drove to my parents house because she knew they are God fearing people.  She knew where she would be safe. 


When I need a hiding place, I go to the cross.  I hide my face in the place where I find my comfort, security, and solace.  I thank God that he sent his son to die on the cross so that I might have a hiding place.  What is your hiding place?


You are my hiding place; you will protect me from trouble and surround me with songs of deliverance. Psalm 32:7