Ten years after September 11th and I witness myself moving closer to forgiveness, yet there are many spots of sadness and fear in my heart. I remember the blank feeling I had the day of the attacks, the disbelief, the factual journal entry I slowly wrote in my neat handwriting as I sat in my NYC high school classroom, the words devoid of emotion that would only surface later. The anger I thought I was supposed to have came up in a poem I wrote that week, and then dissolved as God walked in, as I realized that the anger wasn't as true as the fear and sadness, the cinders of it still felt today. "And how big is God compared to those cinders?" Today I meditate on this question.
What I realize now is that the gospel wasn't written to keep us lost, but just the opposite-- to allow us to taste true freedom, fearlessness, and confidence. It wasn't written to keep us guilty, but to steady us as we walk beside God who walks beside us and also ahead of us. His forgiveness is large enough to reach us all, all we've done and have failed to do. It gives voice to the thoughts and feelings we may be unable to express. His is the well of forgiveness we draw from; it renews us as we drink a drop from it each day, until the day we meet face to face.