READ: Luke 23:32-43
The problem was that nobody knew where the wastewater went. According to a county spokesperson, “It will depend on where it went before we can say what happened.”
As I read the article, I imagined all the wrongs of my life as being like that missing filthy lagoon. In my clearest moments of faith, I can say in all honesty that I really don’t know where they went, but they are gone. The last time I saw the real guilt of my envy, anger, and impatience, they were all nailed to the cross of a Man suffering for wrongs He never committed.
Where did my guilt go? The Bible gives me answers that I can’t really understand: buried in the deepest sea (Mic. 7:19), as far as the east is from the west (Ps. 103:12), erased from the eternal books of heaven’s justice (Col. 2:13-15).
No, all I can really understand is that I owe unending gratefulness, praise, and honor to the One who bore our sin—a mystery of inexpressibly good news.
To His feet thy tribute bring;
Ransomed, healed, restored, forgiven,
Evermore His praises sing. —Lyte
