You would die for Jesus.
You told me so. Most men would say it.
But you will not quit the lust.
That is different, you say. He forgives.
He does. That is not the question.
A fellow on online put it this way this week, and it stuck with me.
Say I punch you in the gut.
Hard. You fold over. I say I am sorry. You forgive me. You are a Christian. That is what we do.
I punch you again. Same spot. Sorry. You forgive me again. Slower this time. You ask why I would do it twice.
Third time. Fourth. I am saying sorry before my fist lands. I have the apology ready the way I have the excuse ready.
The fifth time you stop. Sorry has quit meaning anything in my mouth. You call it what it is. A man who likes punching you and likes being forgiven.
That is repentance with one half missing.
"He that covereth his sins shall not prosper: but whoso confesseth and forsaketh them shall have mercy." Proverbs 28:13
Two verbs. Confesseth. Forsaketh.
Most of us are experts at the first one. We have confessed the same sin so many times we could do it in our sleep.
The second verb is the one that costs. Forsake. Leave it.
John the Baptist said it to men who came to the river with the right words and no intention of changing. "Bring forth therefore fruits meet for repentance." Matthew 3:8.
I am not telling you to earn it. Nobody earns mercy. The verse says mercy comes to the man who confesses and forsakes, and it comes as mercy, not wages.
I am telling you that sorry with your fist already cocked is not sorry. God knows the difference. So does your wife.
Die for Jesus? Good. Start with the smaller death. The one at eleven at night with the phone in your hand.
Every essay here lands free. If this work has held you at some point, hold it up once. Give what you want. Five dollars is the floor. Every gift gets a gift back: 100 Plain Questions About the Bible, the whole guide, to the email you enter, with a thank-you from me.
If you cannot give, forward this to a man who needs the second verb. That counts.
Adam