Realization 

Overwhelmed by the loosening of his tongue, Zechariah sings out the first Gospel message. He gets it. He knows in his gut what this is all about. After all, he was the one standing there before Gabriel. That pretty much changes everything for a person. He's sold out to the realization that God is here now. God is actively involved again. You can hear the prophecy pushing out from the priest as he sings, "YOU will tell his people how to find salvation through the forgiveness of sins.” You speak the truth, Zechariah, forgiveness, all of us forgiven. 

The man standing before Troy and I was a liar, a cheat, and a thief, and he was also our friend. We had worked with him for over a year as he tried with sheer grit to overcome his alcoholism. He didn’t have interest in a Savior but politely attended church whenever he was sober. We loved him. This is why it was so heart-sickening when we learned that he was stealing from us. 

Months prior, with careful thought to the risk, we had placed him in charge of the construction materials needed for the shelter we would build for the Desert Rose girls. This arrangement went along well until it didn’t.
Things began to go missing, and the suspicion led to our friend as the likely culprit. Troy and I prayed about how to respond, and God gave us the answer.

 Forgive him.


Yes, Lord, we hear you. Forgive him and..? 

And nothing. Forgive him.

 It had been weeks since we had seen or heard from our thief, so we were surprised when he arrived at our church.  Directly after the message was over, he asked to speak with us in private. I considered God's words to us, forgive him. Forgiveness is costly. It's not a simple gift. It can be misunderstood, misused, mistaken for weakness. 

Our thief could not look us in the eye. "I took and sold so much that I can never pay you back," he said. His voice was pained, his pride crushed. He explained that his solution to remedy this was to make payments over the next few years, working for us for free. He never asked for forgiveness but instead expressed his regret and shame. A silence rested between us and his confession.

My husband Troy broke the silence with three words. "I forgive you."

Our thief began to shake his head, saying, "No, no, no... you can't." But Troy interrupted him with, "Yes, I can. God forgave me of my sins. How could I not forgive you.” Then Troy offered another solution suggesting the man continue coming to work as a paid employee but each week replacing something he had stolen. Our thief looked up at us for the first time in the conversation. He then began to weep so hard his shoulders shook. Years of being the thief, the liar, the cheater, the addict all those years cried out. When the tears were over, he stood up and said, "May I sing you a song?”

 It was the oddest response I had ever experienced, but of course, we said yes. 

The forgiven sang. The song he sang came from as deep as the cry. Tears streamed as he sang out his gratitude, and we stood before him, ourselves overcome by emotion. He got it. He realized that day what it meant to be forgiven. Three words had broken through the fortress of walls he had built to protect his heart.  The realization of who God is came with three powerful words. I forgive you. Salvation had come through the forgiveness of sins.