I of course hit "reject," but I could not do that with my heart. He or she was clearly offended by what I wrote, took it personally, and decided to personally attack me, anonymously. It's like playing ding-dong-ditch-it. I'll never know who rang the bell. I'll never be able to tell him or her how what he or she wrote made me feel.
After the first few moments of tears about my anonymous commenter, I began to feel the pain from other times I have been verbally attacked (we all have). Those wounds have healed, but jagged scars remain, reminding me of how far short I fall. Then I began to cry even harder over the countless times I have, undoubtedly, scarred someone with my words - words that might be causing them pain even today, in their bedroom, late at night.
But then, my sweet husband, holding me as I wept, offered the voice of hope once again. As I cried, "One day I will account for all the things I've ever said! How will I ever be let in???!!!!", Daniel explained that to give account is like showing receipts of our transactions (or in this case transgressions). All of our receipts will be counted, added up, piled together, and put before us. We will be stunned by the weight of our sin. We will be sickened by the look of them. Then, all at once, they will be paid. Boom. Zero balance. Paper copies burned. Ashes laid all around the cross. Gone forever. He also said that just like when we get our new bodies which will no longer have old football scars, acne scars, or surgery scars, we will no longer have scars on our hearts. We will feel no more pain.
There will be no more tears.
Ever.
