She stood there rigid on the playground. Her body was unmoving, and her gaze was unwavering. Lips sealed, jaw tight, fists clenched, holding on to the truth and not letting it go, no matter how much I persisted. “What’s going on?” I inquired. My student’s stubbornness responded with cold silence.
I wanted to help, and her persistence was challenging my patience. Her demeanor was like an anchor stuck at the bottom of the ocean and unwilling to be reeled up. As I was by her side, I was observing and thinking, “Just say something. Give me something to go off with.” Yet, defiance filled the void.
This stubbornness and tenacious willpower were unmatched. I prayed, “Lord, help me. Please give me wisdom,” as my annoyance started to simmer.
Looking upon my student, I saw my sin and its hardness. Not her, but what she exuded. Not just any sin, but that pestering sin that has been lingering and hardening over each little compromise I have taken to fuel it to its delight. Where you end up like my student, unwilling to accept any help to avoid seeing the problem. It is the sin that you have welcomed in as a guest, grown accustomed to, and lazily deny its power as it has numbed you to the reality of its poison.
I kept pressing and told her, “I want to help you, but you have to start talking.” I gave her time, but she was content in her calloused state.
Frozen and content, our sin does this to us. The governance we grant it to lay hold of our lives, with the whispers of “this is fine” and “surely you won’t die” still echo from the Garden of Eden to numb our senses.
What do we do when the weight of sin feels like this in our lives? When the grip is so tight and the restraint leaves you feeling hopeless with thoughts of “Well, this is just the way it is,” or “How will I ever get over this?” Just as we made compromises little by little to descend us into an abyss of callousness, so we too must compromise our own desires little by little and start by confessing to God, who we have sinned against (Psalm 51:4), and trust in His power to lead us in truth as we obey Him because “He is not weak in dealing with you, but is powerful among us” (2 Corinthians 13:3).
Eventually, my student’s countenance began to defrost. Words started to slowly work their way out, and her demeanor softened with time. The ruts of sin that you have dug into your own soul are not a match for the path that Christ has already walked down for us to follow. Sin might have a grip on us, but Christ has a hold that will not let go (Psalm 63:8). Sin has to bow because Christ has already triumphed. There is hope. You can change. It does not have to be this way, but it takes turning away, fixing our gaze steadily on Jesus, denying ourselves and the lies we have come to believe, replacing them with truths from his word, and accepting Him step by step in prayer and faith. Our renewed hearts are pliable; they are not stones anymore (Ezekiel 36:26). We are not statutes of sin anymore, but are firmly being built from the cornerstone of Jesus Christ. He wants to and will change us, but do you believe Him and the process He will guide you through to do that?
To Him who loves us and has freed us from our sins by His blood.
Revelation 1:5
“If the Spirit of Him who raised Jesus from the dead dwells in you, he who raised Christ Jesus from the dead will also give life to your mortal bodies through His Spirit who dwells in you.” Romans 8:11
Rachel Whisman 
Leave a comment