Sanctified… or Sanitised?

I tell my story in bullet points.

Stripped down, without unnecessary words. Without great emotion.

I tell how I went from A to B and so on… until the train was derailed.

I spare the details. I don’t include the stops in between. I don’t describe the scenery.

I remove myself as far from the action as possible.

I give the sanitised version. The one that shows I was the passenger, not the driver; the victim, not the perpetrator.

Nothing I say is a lie… so why do I feel this weight on my heart? Why does my weakness come back to haunt me?

“I don’t owe anyone the full story. God has redeemed it and I know it. That is enough, surely!”

Yet it is the sanctified version that I must give.

The one where my humanity, as well as God’s grace, is on display. The one that makes my voice tremble, even though I’d rather it didn’t.

Noah, Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Moses, Joshua, David, Peter, Paul… their true stories are all included in the Bible, the good bits and the unflattering bits.

It all points to a holiness and wholeness that no one can achieve on their own.

For a token wipe of the hands accomplishes nothing of lasting value… but God’s sanctifying work?

That’s a story worth sharing.

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