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“I’m . . . Uh . . . Sorry”Ben AyalaThe news is quick to report all the details of famous people’s wrongdoings and their subsequent confessions. Perhaps it’s an athlete who was arrested for driving while drunk. Or it could be a politician caught in an indiscretion. Only God knows the heart, but when we hear a stuttered “I’m . . . uh . . . sorry,” we may wonder if they are truly repentant or just sorry they got caught. When we read the confession of the famous King David we see what looks like genuine contriteness. In his public discussion of his sins in Psalm 51, this disgraced monarch—who had an embarrassing record of flagrant sins which he had kept hidden (2 Sam. 12:1-13; Ps. 32:3-5)—pleads for mercy.
He
recognized that his sin was an affront to God—not just to people—and
that God alone can judge him (Ps. 51:1-6). He realized that he must be
cleansed by God (vv.7-10), and he celebrated his restoration through
service and worship (vv.11-17). All
of us sin and fall short of God’s glory. When we feel the heavy burden
of sin weighing us down, we have the blessing of confession and
forgiveness (1 John 1:9) to lift us up. Isn’t it just like our great
God to turn even our sins into an opportunity to grow in His grace and
power and love! |
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| Read: Psalm 51:1-17 |
(
Psalm 51-Audio-)
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Blot out my transgressions. Wash me thoroughly from my iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin. — Psalm 51:1-2 |
Dear
Lord, please give me a humble heart
and the courage to confess my sins before You and others. Thank You for Your promise to be faithful to forgive my sins and to cleanse me. Confession
is agreeing with God
about our sin.  |
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| Bible
in a Year: Psalms 81-83; Romans 11:19-36 |
"Reflexiones de Nuestro Pan Diario"
Aportacion de: Ben Ayala : benayalal@gmail.com
 Agradecemos a : rbclatino[dot]org -and- odb[dot]org  Comparte
y Sigue a el
Pastor Tony en: |
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Capítulo 2 El llamamiento y la renuncia en la vida del líder - El líder ante un momento crucial La noche cayó con una sorprendente rapidez. Su esposa se encontraba unos metros más allá. Dormía. El no podía conciliar el sueño. Hacía calor. Sudaba. Hubiera querido beberse otro vaso con agua fría, pero asumió que lo mejor era salir por un rato de la estancia y dejarse arrullar por la brisa que—cerca de la medianoche—golpeaba con fuerza sobre el caserío. --¿A dónde vas?—preguntó la mujer. --Afuera, no tardo—respondió él mientras cruzaba el umbral de la puerta. El cielo lucía hermoso, tachonado de estrellas que se perdían en el infinito. Alrededor, las gentes dormían. Estaban ajenos a su realidad. El no hacía otra cosa que pensar. La vida le había sonreído. Tenía el reconocimiento de sus coterráneos, gozaba de solidez económica, de un hogar apacible, de una familia que le amaba y de vastas extensiones de tierra que se perdían en el horizonte. --Definitivamente la vida me ha sonreído...—musi...
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