What if when we went into church we wore our sins on our sleeves?
There’d be no talking, no gossip, no audacity of false pretenses.
We’d be free.
We’d know, hey you really are JUST like me. No pretentious noses riding the air.
Scarlet letters don’t make you stand out, because they’re everywhere.
But the fact is, it’s true. It’s me and it’s you. God sees us just as we are. There’s no hiding. No shame, no battle scars.
We’d commiserate, we’d say I’ve been there too. I’m glad to know that it’s me and it’s you. We’re in this together and we would be right.
No cliques, no reason to fight.
No one would cast so much as a stone. As we leave we’re all washed in his blood, marks made clean. Lives made whole.
Because forgiveness isn’t granted by sitting in the front row. By service or worship or who you know.
It’s given with grace, with peace, in any time and place.
What if when we went into church we wore our sins on our sleeves?
We’d be free.
.
