The time I spent living at the beach was a very dark period in my life. I had been at home from the tail end of the spring until I moved there at the beginning of fall of ’99. Prior to that I was going, for a year, to a small bible school a few miles away from where I would be living when I moved back. These 2 years I was so self centered that I didn’t see my actions as running away from God, I saw them as a sin I committed against Him. Sin was not something that was a big deal. Lots of people sin and ask for forgiveness from that, but it’s not a big deal because our sin is paid for.

I failed to see that the payment that was made for my sin was Jesus’ own suffering on the cross. The pain he felt as a man being beaten, humiliated, mocked, and taunted. The separation of himself from His father, God, as he hung there and took all the weight I put upon him.

It hasn’t been until these last two years that I have begun to understand what my sin meant to God. It isn’t just me doing something naughty, it’s me taking the place of all those who were physically there that day. I beat him, I humiliate him, I mock him, I taunt him each time I sin.

Yet, He went through it so I can have community with Him. He experienced separation from God so I wouldn’t have to. I pray that my understanding of this increases (although I know I never will know the depths of what went on). I pray that my experiences will be something that God uses to open doors for those that happen upon this.

Right now I feel as if I’m stumbling along, and if you just started reading, please stick with me as I dig deeper into my past and uncover how sick I was and humbly present what God has done in me through and in spite of me.

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