I know I don't mean to do it as often as I do. And I'm sure no one else does (or, at least I hope not). But we all do it more than we should, and even once is more than enough. What is it? It, is our tendency to palliate, that is, lessen the severity of, without remedying—our sins and the sins of others—particularly those who sin similarly to us. And if we happen to like them, their sins aren't as bad as others, or even worse, we choose to be blind to their sins altogether.

This is truly a grievous activity.

How do we do it? Well, I'm not going to presume upon how others might do it, but I sure know how I do it. And it's often subtle because it's cloaked in the worldly definition of love. The love that says, "I'm okay, you're okay" therefore never does or says anything that might make you dislike or reject me. So, when I see you sin, and especially if it's a sin similar to mine, I might say something like, "Oh, well...none of us are perfect." Or if I want to throw a dash of false humility in this brew of sin I'm concocting, I might even add, "After all, I've done (or am doing) the same thing."

Now, there's absolutely nothing wrong with admitting a sin and making a connection with whomever I'm speaking with. What's wrong is that I stop there. I don't do what I know I is right (James 4:17) and therefore, I sin...again.

If I'm truly living Ephesians 4:29 and cared more about the Lord and your relationship with Him (than I care about your relationship with me), I wouldn't stop after I confessed committing the same sin. After noting this mutual weakness in the flesh, I would say, "We both need to repent and be grateful for God's forgiveness in Christ Jesus. And if we're truly grateful for His grace, we'll both commit to write God's Word on our hearts concerning this matter so we don't keep sinning against Him. Will you keep me accountable?" Then I would immediately begin looking up Scriptures to strengthen us so we might not sin like this again. Moreover, I would pray that the Lord would write His Word on our hearts (Ps 119:10-11, 24).

If I truly love the LORD my God, I will love what He loves and hate what He hates. If I truly love Jesus, though I may never be sinless on this side of Heaven, I will aspire not be a repeat offender of the same crime.

So, if you ever catch me involved in this sinful activity of palliating my sin and yours, please rebuke me. Please remind me that this wicked attempt to make us both more comfortable about our sins is what caused our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ to leave His heavenly throne, descend into His own creation, be abused and crucified, and rise on the third day, so we might escape the wrath of God and receive forgiveness for our sins and inherit eternal life.

I don't know about you, but I don't want to live in the putrid cesspool of my sins. I want to live in the glorious new life Jesus died to give me—the life of a daughter of the Most High God, washed clean, and dressed in the robe of Christ's righteousness.

"The LORD is my portion; I promise to keep [treasure] Your words. I entreat Your favor with all my heart; be gracious to me according to Your promise. When I think on my ways, I turn my feet to Your testimonies; I hasten and do not delay to keep [protect] Your commandments."

~Psalm 119:57-60 (ESV)

When we were little children, the first time we received a lollipop or a shiny sticker from our doctor, we were overjoyed and grateful. The second time, we were again excited about trying a new lollipop flavor and the new sticker we could get. Perhaps this time, it would be a scratch and sniff! But the third time, we begin to grow weary with the same old lollipop and sticker choices. So we snuff our noses as we walk by the lollipops and stickers and brighten our eyes to the new, bigger and better prize we have earned! Yep. Earned.

As cute and cuddly as we are when we're little, we're still sinners waiting to tell the world what our demands are and by golly, they better deliver. We start first with our parents. Much like our doctor's visits, we act as if our parents owe us something. For what? Our mother's owe us because she carried us for nine months, fed us, sacrificed her figure and health and some of them, their lives? Our mother's labor for us from the day she conceives until the day one of us dies, and for this, she owes us....what?

Our father's work tirelessly and sacrificially to provide a roof over our heads, food in our bellies and clothes to cover and warm our bodies. And if we're blessed with parents who love the Lord Jesus, then they spend hours reading and studying the Bible themselves and teaching and training us in the love and admonition of the Lord. Christian parents pour out their whole hearts and lives to their children so that they may know Christ and be known by Him.

Additionally, we think our children owe us something because we're doing just as God has commanded? They are God's gifts to us, to draw us nearer to Him; to remind us we can't do anything ourselves (even take care of a helpless infant). Our children humble us and bring us to our knees. And for this, we ought to continually give thanks to the Lord.

Sadly, this uncomely cycle of self-adulation and entitlement extends to our adulthood.

Even as adults, when we first meet a new friend and they share a kindness with us, whether in word or deed (or both), we are very touched and extremely grateful. We're so moved by their kindness, we want to tell our spouse, our children, and everyone on social media. But after this person does something kind a second or third time, we're no longer filled with the same gratitude we first had, rather—we expect it.

Why does this happen? Why does familiarity breed ingratitude and if not dealt with, lead to contempt?

Pride. Entitlement. Ingratitude. Contempt. That's how.

Ever since Adam and Eve committed the first sin in the Garden (believing they could be like God), all humanity has been cursed with insatiable pride that tells us we are owed everything good and nothing bad. This makes us feel entitled, which leads to ingratitude and when we don't recognize and repent of this, we become contemptuous, impatient and unkind to others.

How we see ourselves and those around us, greatly affects our relationship with God. If we can be so prideful, feel so entitled, be so ungrateful and contemptuous towards those we can see, how much more do we behave the exact same way towards God whom we can't see (1 John 4:20)?

We think too much of our own "good" deeds and too little of others. And sadly, sometimes the "good" we think we're doing isn't really a blessing to others, but rather, a burden. It may surprise us to discover, when we get to Heaven, that the time we think we spent blessing someone, was actually, the other way around. It was a sacrifice and unpleasant experience for them to be with us, therefore, a great blessing to us, rather than to them. And we missed it.

We're left in this sad and destructive state as long as we don't repent and remember what Christ did for us on the Cross at Calvary. As much "good" we think we do, we don't and can't do it unless God works it through us (Eph 2:10). Unless God gives us the seed to sow, unless God blesses us with anything to give whether in word or in deed, we have nothing but evil to give anyone (1 Cor 4:7).

The truth is, we owe God everything; and therefore, are indebted to generously love others well because God first gave generously and loved us well.

What we give to the Lord and to others is so minuscule compared to what has been given to us by our Father through our Lord Jesus Christ.


Let us never assume we're so familiar with others and with God that we feel as if they owe us every good and no evil. And let us always be surprised and grateful for any act of kindness that comes our way. After all, we probably don't even realize the great sacrifice some people make in order to give us a widow's mite.

The next time you sense yourself feeling slighted or indignant about a kindness that wasn't given to you that you assuredly knew you deserved, look to the Cross. No true Christian can fix their eyes on Jesus' costly sacrifice and then turn to see themselves as anything more than an utterly humbled and grateful servant who feels as they should—unworthy of the price that had to be paid to set them free.

photo credit: www.Biblescreen.com

Yesterday, on my way home from the grocery store, I was overwhelmed by a very small act of kindness. Not one done to me, but one I was able to offer a total stranger.

As I neared a construction area in my neighborhood, I saw a man driving a truck wishing to come out of the alleyway. He was unable to because no one driving either north or south would allow him entrance onto the main road since we all had to share a single lane due to the construction. I understand. It was rush hour and everyone was trying to get home.

When it was my turn, and I had the right of way, I stopped and waved him in. He was hesitant and looked to the car coming southward, but they saw me and stopped too. The driver of the truck smiled, carefully drove out, and gave me a warm wave of thanks. I smiled, nodded and waved back. Then I smiled and waved at the driver who joined me in this very small act of kindness and they smiled and waved back.

Unexpectedly, as I thanked God for this opportunity to show a stranger this very small act of kindness...I began weeping. I was overtaken by the fact that I could experience such joy over something no one else involved in this situation would probably ever remember. I mean, this isn't the kind of thing anyone goes home and writes about (well...obviously...present company excluded). This very small act of kindness isn't something we'll eagerly tell our family and friends or even years from now, reminisce fondly and repeatedly tell our grandchildren about. It's simply a very, very, very small act of kindness.

So why am I writing about it? Why am I telling you about it? Why is this small act such a big deal?

It's a big deal because the instant I thanked God for allowing me to experience exuberant joy for such a small act of kindness, I realized how very depraved I am without Christ. As I thanked God for allowing me to notice that other person, the small need he had at the moment, and that I was able and desired to meet that need, filled me with joy.

Realizing I'm far too self-absorbed, selfish, and so many other words that begin with "self", to notice another human being, let alone a need they might have, I wept with thanksgiving in my heart to the Lord. In actuality, we're all a bit too self-something or other. We all complain too much, we all feel more entitled than we ought, and we all suffer from outright pride, or pride cloaked in self-loathing.

Our eyes are too fixed on self rather than on Jesus and that's why we disobey Him and why many won't acknowledge Him as who He is—the one true God, Creator of all we see and can't see, the King of kings, the Lord of lords and the only way of eternal salvation. Whether we want to admit it or not, and regardless of how meek a person may appear, disobedience to God in any form originates from pride. We all have it. And we all suffer from how it manifests itself—total human depravity.

But here's the thing, total depravity doesn't mean I'm as depraved as I can be and neither are you. Total depravity means we're all sinful and totally incapable of saving ourselves. But because of God's common grace, no human being is as depraved as they can be. Evil does not dominate the earth because God is God and He is gracious. The sun shines on both those who bear the righteousness of Christ as well as those who reject Him. God causes the rain to fall on the ground and bear fruit to feed both His children and His enemies.

Without God's common grace poured out to all creation, no human would be safe from constant evil bombarding them from their first breath to their last. None of us would ever be able to experience any joy in participating in any act of kindness, small or great because we simply wouldn't even think to do it. We're all too self-actuated. We are all that depraved (Rom 3:10-12).

Admitting I'm totally depraved without Christ isn't self-loathing. And it isn't depressing. It's actually an act of great confidence, that is, confidence in Christ's finished work on the Cross on my behalf. Those whom God has chosen to grant repentance that leads to saving faith, willingly bring and see all things in the light of God's truth so that it's clear that any and every good has been carried out by the mighty and compassionate hand of God (John 3:21)—even a very small act of kindness.

"For who sees anything different in you? What do you have that you did not receive? If then you received it, why do you boast as if you did not receive it?

"Do not be deceived, my beloved brothers. Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change. Of his own will he brought us forth by the word of truth, that we should be a kind of firstfruits of his creatures."

~1 Corinthians 4:7, James 1:16-18 (ESV)

Any good we receive comes from God, even our "good" acts (James 1:17). For He is the one who prepared them for us that we might walk in them.

"For we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them." ~Eph 2:10

Let us, as God's dearly beloved children, always find our worth, our joy and our peace, not in the people around us or in our circumstances (whether good or evil), but in Christ alone—mindful and grateful that in God's grace, He gives us the good we are not owed—and in His mercy, He withholds the evil we are owed.