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I partied my way through high school as a rowdy, boisterous girl who loved to laugh with friends. And I imbibed in my share of weed and wine to help that happen. A religious conversion at nineteen turned the wild-child me into a pin-straight, prim-and-proper young lady whom my friends could no longer recognize. When two of my best friends from high school came to visit, they stared at me, confused, and wondered, “What have you done with Jennifer?” I will admit that I came across as pretty austere and joyless.
The truth was, underneath the severe exterior brewed a fear of falling back into my old ways. While I believed that God had forgiven me for my past, I also believed He now left it up to me to straighten myself out. This belief may have been reinforced by my childhood experiences with a strict father who, although he placed high expectations on me, found it difficult to cultivate a close relationship. When I first learned to walk, I knew two things: One, that Mommy and Daddy believed I could; otherwise, why were they wildly waving their arms and cheering on the other side of the room? Two, I knew that if I fell, they would scoop me up in their arms, set me upright, and cheer me on as I tried again. Now imagine yourself, child of God, learning to walk. God stands on the other side of the room, cheering for you.
You take a few steps, then stumble. He picks you up, sets you upright, and you try again. Now imagine yourself one day running right into His arms.
In reality, our heavenly Father walks alongside us.
He wants us to know the impossibility of reaching those ideals in our own strength. He does not expect us to reach those standards as a means of obtaining righteousness; rather, He wraps us in His righteousness at the outset. Jesus’ gift of His righteousness transforms us. We serve Him with joy—no longer desiring anything that would separate us from Him.
And when we fall, He scoops us up in His arms, sets us on our feet, and walks alongside us. He knows we will ultimately walk without falling.
Jennifer Jill Schwirzer