I’ve found that the sin in my life often works like an avalanche. At first, the sin seems inconsequential, like a dusting of snow on the ground. What harm could it do? Then, slowly, little by little, the snow builds up. The whole time, though, the snow is beautiful and quiet. It just rests there, and there is no obvious danger. I get complacent, used to the snow, and I forget that there was once dry ground, lush with vegetation, beneath that snow.
Tag Archives: Sin
Avalanche of Sin
The Full Armor of Sin
One of my favorite films is Gladiator. In it, there is a scene where Maximus—once a Roman General, now a slave—first steps into the gladiatorial arena to fight. He is reluctant, refusing to attack. As a Roman soldier, he had the best weapons and armor available. Now, he was nearly naked, seemingly defenseless. But even without the physical defenses, he was able to use his training, his wits, and the few weapons he had to fight and win.
A similar thing happens when I fall into sin. In the film, Maximus was thrust involuntarily into slavery. Sin, on the other hand, usually involves making a choice to reject God’s armor and to go into battle naked. Once I’m standing in the center of the arena, though, I’m forced to summon up whatever defenses I can create for myself. I put on the full armor of sin.
The Best Sunrises Have Clouds
It’s kind of surprising that I’ve not written about sunrises at all, considering it’s probably my favorite time of day (and it’s the first line of the song that launched this blog). I’ve had this half-thought floating around in my head for a long time—probably years—but it never really crystallized completely until this morning. Most people consider clouds a blemish on an otherwise perfect sky. But God can’t create perfect sunrises without clouds.
