Enough

Imagine you invite a friend out for dinner and offer to pay.  When the bill comes, to your great embarrassment, you find you don’t have enough to cover it.  Your friend laughs and throws in enough to make up the difference.

That’s not how it works with God.

It’s more like you find you left your wallet at home and you’ve got nothing.  Or whatever you brought to pay doesn’t matter because they don’t take the currency you’re carrying.  What you thought you had to your credit is worthless.

Some day, a lot of people are going to reach into their pockets expecting to have enough to cover their bill, only to find nothing more than lint.

I think a lot of us are fooled into believing that our sins aren’t that bad.  Or it’s hard for us to understand the depth, the seriousness, of our offenses.  When we think about sin, we usually think some sins are little and some are big.  A little sin isn’t so bad, right?  We’re convinced the good things we’ve done make up for the little white lies, the angry outbursts, the lustful desires.

That’s not how God sees it.  God is light; there isn’t any darkness in Him at all.  The Bible talks about this as God’s righteousness – His right-ness.  Righteousness, perfection, is like pure, creamy vanilla pudding.  This is how God intended for us to be.

Sin is the opposite of righteousness.  Our sin is like baby poop – it stinks.  If I put just a little poop into the pudding, you’re not going to want it.  The whole thing is ruined.  A lot or a little doesn’t really matter too much.  That’s how God sees it.  He says you’re either righteous, or you’re poop.

Maybe you’re well aware you’re a sinner.  You know the depth of your sin.  You were tempted, blinded to the fact that it was really poop, and you devoured it, feasted on it even.  Now you can’t imagine how God could possibly forgive someone who has done the things you’ve done.  How you could forgive yourself.  How you can get the taste of poop out of your mouth.

Too often we return to the one who deceived us in the first place looking for the path to redemption.  We ask directions from the one who led us off course to begin with.  Now he laughs and says, “The only way you can make up for this is to ____________.”  That’s just another lie.  No matter what Satan says you owe, you’re not obligated to him. 

The One we are accountable to is God.  Accountable: to give an account, an answer, an explanation, a reckoning.  What can we say to Him?  What explanation can we give?  How can we justify what we’ve done, what we’ve left undone?  Whatever account we give, it’s all poop in the pudding.

A better analogy is that you are homeless, filthy and hungry.  Enslaved.  A beggar.  Then Jesus comes and says, “Let me buy you dinner.”  He cleans you up.  Gives you fresh clothes.  Breaks your bondage.  Sets you free.  Takes you to the finest restaurant and serves you the most expensive thing on the menu.  Before you were humbled if someone gave you their leftover lunch.  Now you stagger under the way He lavishes goodness on you.

The truth is, when the bill comes, we are all empty-handed.  That’s so we can receive out of God’s limitless, always-going-to-be-more-than-enough storehouse.  We are rescued because God has given us a priceless gift, His own Son.  We don’t bring anything to the bargaining table.  Now when it’s time for the account to be settled, it’s covered.  There is no debt He can’t pay.  No sin He can’t cover.  No need He can’t meet.  There is nothing that He isn’t sufficient for.  He is more than enough.