A Tattoo on My Soul

One sentence. If you blink or let your mind wander like I did some years ago when I skimmed past it, you might miss it. After all, it’s only one sentence—one sentence in one paragraph in one section of one chapter of one book. I’ve read the book and the chapter and the section and the paragraph before, but somehow I missed this one sentence. But not this time. When I recently reread the book, the sentence reached out and grabbed me in the very deep of my sinner’s heart. And it wouldn’t let go. I didn’t want it to let go. If I could get a tattoo on my soul so I would never forget, it would be this sentence.

The book is Bible Doctrine by Wayne Grudem. The chapter is on the character of God. The section is about God’s omnipresence. Here’s the paragraph, which is a quote from Herman Bavinck’s The Doctrine of God:

When you wish to do something evil, you retire from the public into your house where no enemy may see you; from those places of your house which are open and visible to the eyes of men you remove yourself into your room; even in your room you fear some witness from another quarter; you retire into your heart, there you meditate: [God] is more inward than your heart. Wherever, therefore, you shall have fled, there he is. From yourself, whither will you flee? Will you not follow yourself wherever you shall flee? But since there is One more inward even than yourself, there is no place where you may flee from God-angry but to God-reconciled. There is no place at all whither you may flee. Will you flee from him? Flee unto him.

Did you see the sentence? Actually, it’s only part of a sentence. I don’t know how I missed it.

…there is no place where you may flee from God-angry but to God-reconciled.

There…is…NO…place. For a sinner there is no place to flee from God-angry. And I know God-angry. All too well. But by his grace and mercy, God-angry has ordained and provided and revealed and called sinners to the refuge of God-reconciled. The price of admission is dear and unimaginable. It cost God his Son’s life. It costs us ours, too.

But death to self is excruciating. We love our sin. We worship our comfort. We bask in our attempts at control. We hide our pursuit of personal pleasure in the darkness of our hearts. We think our sin is private. We think no one sees. We think it affects no one else. But the further we plunge into the vile deep of our hearts, the closer we get to God-angry. It is only when, by God’s regenerating grace, we recognize and repent of our rebellious self-worship that we can flee from God-angry to God-reconciled. We flee both from him and unto him. From his justice and unto his mercy. From his wrath and unto his grace.

David was a great king. And he was a great sinner. In the depths of his wicked heart he secretly coveted his neighbor’s wife (violating the 10th commandment), “despised the word of Yahweh” and worshiped his own lust (violating the 1st commandment and the spirit of the 2nd), slyly committed murder-by-proxy (violating the 6th) to steal the object of his lust (violating the 8th) so he could commit adultery (violating the 7th). When confronted by the prophet Nathan about his sins, David repented.

He fled from God-angry:

O LORD, you have examined my heart
and know everything about me. …
You know my thoughts even when I’m far away. …
I can never escape from your Spirit!
I can never get away from your presence!
If I go up to heaven, you are there;
if I go down to the grave, you are there. …
I could ask the darkness to hide me
and the light around me to become night—
but even in darkness I cannot hide from you.
To you the night shines as bright as day.

to God-reconciled:

Search me, O God, and know my heart;
test me and know my anxious thoughts.
Point out anything in me that offends you,
and lead me along the path of everlasting life.

Perhaps David wished he could have tattooed Psalm 139 on his soul. My soul’s not big enough for that. All I have room for, and all I need room for, is…

…there is no place where you may flee from God-angry but to God-reconciled.

Michael Long

My college sweetheart, Patti, and I married in 1975, raised our three kids in Ventura, CA, moved to Bend in 2005, and loved on our daughter’s family and the people of Foundry Church until 2023 when we returned to SoCal to be in the lives of our two youngest grandkids.

An entrepreneur at heart, my career path included teaching, counseling, consulting, graphic design, marketing, computers, and music, both in the marketplace and in churches. Some may consider that impressive, but don’t be fooled. Being and husband and a Papa is the sweetest joy of all.

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