By faith Abraham obeyed when he was called to go out to a place that he was to receive as an inheritance. And he went out, not knowing where he was going.

Hebrews 11:8

As one who is directionally challenged, I do appreciate that (somewhat annoying) voice telling me exactly where and when to turn so I’ll arrive at my desired destination. When using GPS, some of us might not even pay attention to the route before we pull out of the driveway. We just pop in an address and go—trusting that voice for each step of the way. 

Wouldn’t it be awesome if we had the same level of faith and step-by-step compliance when it comes to the Lord’s directions for our lives? Now, for this GPS-to-God’s-will analogy to be accurate, it must be acknowledged that we don’t always (or ever!) know our destination—the place where God wants us to go. And this is perhaps where GPS has spoiled us. We say to Him, “OK, Lord, just tell me where I’m going to end up, and I’ll go.” Or, “Lord, that is where I want to be, show me how to get there.” 

Honestly, our faith journey is more like jumping in the car and pressing “start route” without knowing the ultimate destination. Even when we ask (and beg) Him to show us His will or give us the big picture, we may only hear Him say, “Here’s the first step. Go.” 

“But God,” we respond, “where will this lead? What do you have in store?” When silence follows, we must recognize what God is waiting for—what He teaches us through Moses and other great men and women of the Bible: He wants obedience one step at a time, even when we have no idea what the very next step might be. And as we make our way, we might not even know the destination until we actually get there. But, if we are faithful to follow His divine directions, we can be confident that when we hear, “You have arrived,” that the destination will be for our good and His glory

For by one sacrifice He has made perfect forever those who are being made holy.

— Hebrews 10:14

Before I became a Christian, I believed whole-heartedly that there were many ways to God—different paths, each as valid as the next. In fact, I was so vehement that I designed a logo representing it and had it tattooed onto my body. Now, that’s commitment. 

But, thankfully, the Lord was leading me to the Truth. And, after three decades of going to church (because my “path” was Catholicism), I heard the Gospel for the first time. I truly understood that through Jesus, my sins were paid, and I was made righteous in the eyes of a God that requires perfection. 

Even after I heard the Truth, I questioned God…surely, He wouldn’t condemn all those Baha’i, Buddhists, and Muslims who are just as passionate about their path to Heaven. How could Christianity be so narrow-minded? Couldn’t there still be many ways to God? 

So, on the front steps of my newfound church, I asked that question of the pastor. And he explained a simple, profound truth: Within all the world religions, people must work to earn heaven—they must pursue “good enough” by their own efforts and deeds. Not so with Christianity. By what He accomplished on the cross, Jesus Christ paid in full the cost of eternal life with God. There’s nothing we can do to earn it or be good enough. We are sinners, and the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus. (Romans 6:23).

Jesus paid our debt, stamping it, “Paid in Full”—we owe nothing…and everything. In fact, when Jesus cried from the cross, “It is finished,” the original word equates with a debt being satisfied. 

Others do and do and do, never to be perfected. Christians, however, have been made perfect and holy because He paid it all for us. It’s done. We don’t have to work for our salvation—and fail repeatedly. Instead, in response to what Christ did, we do good—not to earn but in grateful response. 

So, I added the word Teleo to my “tattoo testimony.” It translates from Greek into, “I am complete.” 

Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you. ~ Ephesians 4:32

The Bible says a lot about forgiveness. Throughout the New Testament, Jesus and the Epistle writers command believers forgive. But often, we believe that “forgiving” equates with “condoning”—and that forgiveness negates the associated pain of the wrong. But that’s not the case.

The thing is, forgiveness is a choice—not a feeling. And true forgiveness, although it is a gift to the other person, frees our own soul from the destructive burden of bitterness and anger.

About this time several years ago, a virtual bomb was dropped in my life—a revelation of truth that devastated my very soul. I was more hurt and angrier than I thought possible. And no one would have faulted me for wrapping a firm grip around bitterness, never to let go.

Instead, within a matter of hours—in the midst of the shock, horror, pain, and disbelief—I did something unexpected. I chose to forgive.

Please know this was not of my own power—it was not humanly possible. It was the Holy Spirit, living in me, that gave me the supernatural ability to make that decision. In the middle of my pain, He convicted my spirit with five simple words that still burn within today: “How dare you not forgive?”

See, my life is daily filled with sin. I am a sinner. But Jesus stretched out His arms on that cross to pay the penalty I owe. Yesterday’s, today’s, and tomorrow’s sins are all forgiven and thrown into the sea of forgetfulness. We who accept the precious gift of salvation are made white as snow even though our sins are as scarlet. (Isaiah 1:18) 

When you consider people in your life who have wronged you, you may think, “But that person’s sin is way worse than mine—they hurt me!” But in God’s economy, every sin is an imperfection that stains the perfect righteousness required by a perfect God. And every sin hurts Him too. 

We are forgiven. Because of what Jesus accomplished—His pain and suffering on our behalf, His amazing mercy and grace—how can we not extend that same grace, mercy, and forgiveness to another?

Because we are forgiven through Christ, let’s choose to be forgiving through Christ.