One of my favorite things about night time is Emeth's sleeping face. Those cheeks regularly inspire Hans to tip his entire body over the crib like a seesaw. With his feet high in the air, he kisses his son.
Before Emeth invaded our lives, I used to think the phrase "forgive and forget" was a little, um,... optimistic? Even now, when I ask for forgiveness for certain repeated sins, my heart wavers. Cold doubts about the sincerity of my own repentance, not to mention God's ability to accept this feeble apology, oppress me as I know I am likely to fall again.
Since his coming, I discovered a strange and wonderful grace. While I watch my child sleep, I have a hard time recalling the difficulties of the day. How many times I reprimanded him and why, and the messes he created -- they seem so far away I can barely hold them in my thought. The fact is, I don't want to remember. He has repented, kissed me, and said sorry. Each morning brings such sweet reunion as I am reminded of how much I love his smile.
If the Lord grants human parents this capacity to forgive, how much more should we trust in his promise cleanse us from our filth. He removes our sins far, far away -- as far as the east is from the west (Psalm 103:8-14). He is faithful to forgive.
It is our foolish hearts that continue to hold on to these sins, or as my professor says, keep them as pets. Once in a while, we take them out of our pockets and admire them, caress them, feed them. One day, we shall find monsters, capable to consume and kill.
Flee, O heart, from evil affections! Your Lord and Father, the Merciful and Compassionate, has removed your sins from you. Believe this and live, far away from all unrighteousness.