Fighting the Midnight Monster

I recently heard a minister say that on a regular basis he is awakened early in the morning with a feeling of writhing humiliation; all his doubts, all his fears, all his failings and regrets are played on the big-screen of his imagination on an endless loop.

I am familiar with this phenomenon because I too suffer from middle-of-the-night remorse.  Probably you do too, because I suspect we have a common enemy who loves to kick us when our defenses are low.  When our biorhythms are in a trough and our bodies desperately long for more sleep, while we lie in the oppressive quiet, in the moments when we are all four years old -- afraid of the dark and afraid to turn on the light -- he whispers to us not lies, but the truth of our own memories, our own failures, our own worst moments.  We toss on our hot pillows, reliving in vivid technicolor sins which our merciful Father has utterly forgotten.  If we pray it is with the strength of a starving kitten, mewling for that of which we have already abundantly received.  We waste our precious moments of prayer brooding over actions and decisions that matter to Him not at all.

The other morning while in the midst of this godless practice, it occurred to me that I do not have the right to cling to this guilt, or to continue to wallow in what, if the Scriptures are true, is gone.  Gone.  There is a song, currently popular,which contains the line "I don't have time to maintain these regrets."  Not only have I not time, I have not authority to continually take back what I have released and had taken away.  Jesus died with this on His shoulders.  I've given it to Him and I have no more right to take it back than to take back anything else I've given Him.  My time, my money, my children and friends, my past, they are all His to carry. 

Having said that, and rather emphatically, let me forestall your first obvious objection.  From time to time, we need to look back over the paths we've taken so that we can gain wisdom for the path ahead, or to help someone avoid or escape a trap into which we have previously fallen.  This learning from experience lends value to the pain we've felt, and the pain we've caused.

We also face natural consequences.  He saves us from ultimate justice, but usually lets us roll with the consequences.  This is often painful as consequences can impact those we love most dearly.  This tends to be a contributing factor to that early morning guilt-wallowing.  Consequences are real and present, but it doesn't mitigate the fact that we must face down our tormentor at such times; he knows our sins are gone, but wants us to forget.  We are enjoined in Hebrews 4:16 to approach the throne of grace with confidence.  Let us so do and ask our Father to help us deal manfully, graciously, and appropriately with our consequences.

See you on the next page!

Deb