Today is our regularly scheduled “One Word” Blog Carnival and our scheduled topic is “Lust.” You can view a listing (with links) of all of the carnival entries on Bridget Chumbley’s website.
A few months ago, when that topic was first proposed by someone (I can’t remember who) on Twitter, I don’t recall feeling hesitant about writing a post about it. But last week, when Bridget and some of the others started sending reminders about it, I skipped hesitant and went to full-blown panic.
It’s funny, isn’t it? I’m the one that usually doesn’t mind opening the closet and letting the world see my skeletons. But when the subject of lust came up, I immediately started barring the door to my closet. I spent this whole week worrying about it and had finally decided that I wasn’t going to post on this topic at all.
Then, I remembered Solange.
Warning: You’re going to think I’m going off topic here, but stay with me and I’ll come back to it.
Sunday morning when our church service ended, I didn’t rush to my car. I knew that the parking lot was full and that I was parked in the back. I figured that instead of tempting myself to road rage so quickly after the great worship service, I would just slowly make my way out of the sanctuary, chatting and hugging other stragglers. Then, by the time I got to my car, the parking lot would be pretty much empty.
I shook hands with the couple I’d sat next to and then hugged the lady in charge of the ushers and greeters and I spoke to several people as I made my way to the back door. And then, I found myself facing a tall, angular lady that I don’t remember ever having seen before. That’s no surprise since I go to a large church with multiple venues (two) and multiple services (five).
For a second, I thought she was just accidentally bumping into me, but when she faced me, her pleasant expression was full of purpose.
“You held up a cardboard sign, yes?”
My eyes followed her hand signal toward the stage as my mind tried to decipher the light accent. German? French? I couldn’t quite decide because she spoke so quietly. But I was able to make sense of her words.
“Oh, you mean the cardboard testimonies the drama team did last February. Yes, I held up a cardboard sign with my testimony on it.”
“It said ‘Suicidal.’ But every time I see you, you have such a big smile. Every Sunday, I look for you to see if you have your smile. You always do. It’s a very beautiful smile.”
I was shocked by her words! It’s been almost a year since our drama team performed our cardboard testimonies. (Click here if you wish to view our drama team’s Cardboard Testimonies performance.) I had been so scared to stand up there and be so shockingly honest, holding the word “Suicidal” in big, black letters across my chest. But when I had flipped my cardboard over and showed the words, “I met the Life Giver” the crowd had roared and I had known that the risk was worth it. But that day—almost a year ago—as I put my cardboard testimony in the trunk of my car, I had thought that it was all over. But not for this lady.
I asked her name, told her my own, and gave her a hug and a smile. And I offered her one scripture as we parted: “We overcome the devil by the Blood of the Lamb and the Word of our testimony.”
And so this week, as I have considered how to avoid writing about lust, I’m faced with the truth that I overcome the devil by the Blood of the Lamb and the Word of my testimony. And also with the truth that maybe—just maybe—something I say is going to be the key that unlocks the door to someone else’s closet, too.
A lot of people would think that because I’m a never-married single Christian lady, that I don’t know anything about lust. The truth is that in my life, I’ve both lusted after others and been the object of the lust of others. (Gosh, that sounds really bad when I write it! But, it’s the sad truth.) And while the abuse I went through at the hands of a neighbor contributed to my ability to sin in this area, the truth is that I was born into sin anyway and have committed many of my own sins—not counting the ones enacted upon me.
So, now that the skeleton is out of the closet, let me just say that the most important message I can share today is a two-fold message. First, if you have been sinned against, there is healing. Second, if you have sinned, there is forgiveness.
Make no mistake about it, lust is a sin. But because of the shed blood of Jesus, it does not carry a death sentence.
If you are in bondage to sin of any kind—including lust—seek help. Confess to God and also find a pastor or counselor that can help you. James 5:16 says to confess our faults to one another and pray for one another that we may be healed! Let’s open up the closets of our lives to let the light shine in, so that we can be healed. Don’t hide the skeletons—let them come out into the light and dance!
Oh, Sarah, what a powerful post. What a heart-wrenching, gut-wrenching, beautifully written powerful post.
Sarah, I’m so proud of you for taking that leap of faith and sharing what you’ve been through. I’m in tears and I know that that I needed to hear this, and obviously there will be others!
These words are so powerful:
“First, if you have been sinned against, there is healing. Second, if you have sinned, there is forgiveness.”
Thank you for opening your heart and sharing… sending a big long distance HUG to you, my friend.
I like your pure honesty Sarah and obviously that woman who remembered you from over a year ago sees that same genuineness about you. Thanks for sharing so candidly!
Do you know this song: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6sjYWrpNoCs
Sarah Salter, you are light in this broken land.
There is much healing when those skeletons get let out, isn’t there? As scary as it is to admit when you have done something, or someone has done something to you, it is such a relief to have that burden lifted from your shoulders. And as you said, not only do you benefit from your honesty and willingness to share and repent, you are helping others to do the same.
I admire you for discussing the important things, Sarah. I can see God shining through you.
Sarah, you are so brave. Letting skeletons out of the closet takes real guts. Especially airing the closet in public. I’ve been dealing with my weaknesses and I’ve found that giving my feelings and desires to Jesus is the only way I can avoid falling into greater sin. Thankfully, He continues to love me.
I love the honesty in your post. And I love the reminder that we never know how our words and actions are impacting people in our path. Sometimes people we don’t even know are in our path. Thanks for this today.
Sarah, that was so brave…
Some time back, Jon wrote a post on SCL about “giving the gift of going second”. He said when we’re willing to step out and share our junk, it makes others feel comfortable in doing so. And when lies and sins are exposed to light, they lose they’re power.
By posting what you did and by sharing your cardboard testimony, you gave the gift of going second to someone. Awesome!
Love ya girl. Thanks for the transparency and they powerful praise report about how God saved you and put the pieces back together.
Yes, I think getting it all out there is crucial. Regardless of what I think, though, it’s what I (we) do about it that matters.
-Marshal Jones Jr.
Sarah, these words no doubt came with a high cost. Thank you for paying the price to share.
The thought of skeletons dancing is a healing one to me, for this reason:
“…because of the shed blood of Jesus, it does not carry a death sentence.”
So very well put.
Powerful words. Beautiful honesty. Radiating truth.
Thank you for sharing your story. You touched my heart.
i think that is good advice.
Thank you for sharing with us, dear Sarah.
God has obviously renewed you. God bless you.
I love this and would even like to see about doing a similar drama to the one you did for our church- sounds powerful! Thanks.
That video is quite something.
Wow, Belle…it is amazing what God does when we aren’t looking. She remembered a cardboard paper with marker on it for over a year….and remembered the lady holding said cardboard…reading that she remembered you made me well up with tears. God is so amazing!
Hi Sarah,
Thank you for being God’s light. Your honesty encourages others to come out of the darkness and into the light.
Thank you.