Claimed

Friday after Ash Wednesday

Into your hands, I commend my spirit,
for you have redeemed me,
O Lord, O God of truth.
Psalm 31:5

Already redeemed. The price has already been paid. This is the realization that smacks me in the face as I pray a psalm that I have prayed before. How many times? Hundreds? How often have these words been on my lips in daily prayer, or spoken or recalled in worship? And today is the day the cry of the psalmist, who first sang these words thousands (thousands!) of years ago, slips past my guard and touches my soul.

And why would I armor myself against the love of God? Why have I kept this truth at arm's length, the truth that I am worthy? Worthy of God's love. Worthy of other's compassion. Worthy of respect.

It may have begun as the smallest lie of the enemy, a whisper that crept into my heart and made a kind of wretched home there, sounding a decade's long undertone of discontent and ugliness and desolation. But it is a lie.

And the truth is God's love. The armor I need is the armor of light. When I fall, when I error, when I act horrendously, God lays before me the way home-the path of remorse, confession, and repentance. God is always calling back to where I belong, because the Holy One has already claimed me.




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