James 1: 23-24, “For if anyone is a hearer of the word and not a doer, he is like a man observing his natural face in a mirror; for he observes himself, goes away, and immediately forgets what kind of man he was.”

James talks about the word of God as a mirror. As we read it, listen to it, we come to see what our hearts truly look like. Apart from it, we’re blind to our sins, especially the subtle ones we easily justify as “natural”. But the Word of God is a sharp sword that pierces our conscience and exposes all our dirty sins. Someone who hears the word of God but refuses to repent when convicted is like a man who looks in the mirror but forgets what he looks like…he sees the disheveled hair, the boogers in his nose, the food in his teeth, the dirty clothes yet doesn’t care to do anything about it. He is desensitized. 

I think about the countless times I have read my bible just as a book, as knowledge, as entertainment. It could make me feel “spiritual” to read my bible everyday. But when my heart is callous with worldly desires or bitterness in my heart, I am blind to see God’s holiness and how dirty I am before him. Instead, I feel so entitled to his love, his mercy, and his grace, and only judge other people for their sins and shortcomings. I look in the mirror but cannot see my pitiful myself.

As I was browsing Amazon today thinking of all the things I needed or wanted to buy, the Holy Spirit convicted my heart to pray. It had been a long time since I properly knelt down and prayed, it almost felt awkward to do it. As I closed my eyes and uttered, “Dear Heavenly Father”, I felt so naked. With eyes closed, bowing there alone in the dark room, I realized how far my heart has been, religious but dead to the living God. I have been living so entitled to everything, even God’s grace, so fixated and affected by things in this world, things I see, circumstances I’m in, what people say and do. Chaos everywhere, no footing beneath me, no ground to stand on. I haven’t even been struggling to stay afloat, I’ve just been sinking like a lifeless still body. Spiritually dead. For a split second, I felt real terror. The fear of being abandoned, the fear of being too far gone, too small, too insignificant for God to see and want to redeem. “What is man that you are mindful of him, the son of man that you care for him?” Why should God care about little tiny me and my babbling groans of a prayer? I knew not even how to pray. 

Then I heard the faintest little babbling sound coming from Dani’s crib. I could only make it one word clear, “Omma…omma…”. It made me smile and want to run quickly to embrace her. That is how God must hear our prayers. We say a ton, thinking we’re speaking elegant spiritual words, but to God, it must just sound like babbling words. But when he hears the cry, “Abba! Abba!” he comes running to us, “Yes, Paulina! I’m here, I’m here! Come to me.” I opened my bible, ready to see myself however the Word would show me. As I did, I saw the image of the rugged cross, drenched in my Savior’s blood. “This is how deprave your sin is, Paulina. But this is how far I’m willing to reach to redeem you. You’re not too far gone.” No words. No words to describe the glory of God’s mercy. 

It hurts a lot for my sins to be exposed. Sometimes, it feels I would rather die than admit I was wrong. Sometimes, the hardest word to say is “Sorry”. And so, sometimes, it’s a lot easier just to keep the bible as an eloquent book of principles but nothing more. But it is so much more. It is the living presence of the Holy God. It is the secret by which the infinite God has  reached tiny little me. It is the way of my salvation and redemption. It is the greatest treasure, the greatest gift God has given us, for it is Christ himself. 

“The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the One and Only, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth.” 

May we cherish the Word of Life as Christ himself. May we come to it daily. May we let it speak truth to us and reflect our most shameful and dirty selves. And as it does so, let us accept the remedy it also offers, the cross of Jesus. Let his grace and mercy wash over us and make us clean. He is willing to save, ready to redeem, wanting to come and embrace, if only we will cry “Abba“.