Seventy Times Seven

Hello, my sweet friends.

It's raining in Charleston this morning, the kind of rain that makes the oaks look like they're praying. Pour yourself something warm.

Last week I asked you to write down one name and the word forgiven. Hundreds of you wrote to me about it. One lady in Ohio told me she wrote her own name. I read that letter three times. Honey, I'm keeping that one.

This morning Peter has a question for Jesus, and it's the question every one of us has asked at a kitchen table.

"Lord, how oft shall my brother sin against me, and I forgive him? till seven times? Jesus saith unto him, I say not unto thee, Until seven times: but, Until seventy times seven."

Seventy times seven.

Now, Peter thought he was being generous with seven. And Jesus looked at him and said, you haven't even started.

Here's what I want you to hear. Forgiveness isn't a feeling. If we waited until we felt like forgiving, we would wait our whole lives. Forgiveness is an obedience. You do it first, and the feeling comes along behind you, like a child who's been told it's time to go.

And it goes both ways, friends. Some of you are the one who needs forgiving. You know who you are. You know what you said in the car, and what you did when nobody was looking. And somebody in your house is waiting for you to say it out loud.

I'll tell you something about my own home, because I don't believe in a ministry with the curtains closed. My husband is a good man who came to faith late, and he carries some darkness from before. Some days it comes into the house with him. And every one of those days, I choose. Seventy times seven. Not because he deserves it. Because I was told to.

That's what a Christian marriage looks like. Not two perfect people. One person who keeps choosing, and one who's learning.

Let's pray.

Father, forgive us as we forgive. For every wife who is tired of choosing, give her strength for the seventy-first time. For every husband who is fighting something he won't name, soften him. Bring him home. In Jesus' name, amen.

I'm Rebecca. This has been Midnight Bread. Go be somebody's blessing today.