Recently, I was reminiscing with a family member about my grandfather, whom we called Papaw.  He was a kind, loving, and quiet man and a World War II veteran who served in the Army in the Philippines. While very kind and loving, he could be firm when the need arose.

Some of my favorite memories of my grandfather were those few occasions when I attended church with him and my grandmother at their small Free Will Baptist church. My grandfather’s arm would be draped around me as I sat comfortably in the pew beside him. Of course, sitting still was the expectation. Since my grandfather knew from experience that stillness wasn’t my strength, his arm served as a reminder of that expectation. However, I’m quite positive that even if I had been gifted at sitting still, my grandfather still would have put his arm around me because he loved me. And to be honest, I was content to be there under his arm.

One Sunday, however, my grandfather’s arm didn’t stand a chance against my wiggling and fidgeting. For some inexplicable reason my right arm would not stop itching and therefore I could not stop scratching it. First, my arm would itch near my elbow and then down by my wrist and then up near my shoulder and then back down my arm again. Soon, I was scratching all over my arm. This went on for almost the entire length of the sermon, which in their church was a good chunk of time. Finally, instead of scratching through my sleeve to get relief, I unbuttoned my sleeve and rolled it all the way up to claw at my itching arm. When I did so, the culprit of my misery (and my grandfather’s!) was revealed. An insect had gotten caught in my sleeve and had bitten me over and over. Red bite marks dotted my arm. Upon seeing the insect, my grandfather did what any good grandfather would do. He reached over and squashed the biting nuisance between his fingers, bringing the whole ordeal to an end. Once, again, I was comfortably still under my grandfather’s arm. If I had not rolled up my sleeve and uncovered the source of my misery, it could not have been dealt with. Once the insect was uncovered before my grandfather, the problem was no more.

David, the shepherd turned king, writes in Psalm 32 about the joy and blessing of having transgressions, or sin, forgiven and put out of sight by the Lord. In the Psalm, David recounts the misery he experienced before uncovering his sin before the Lord. Then David joyfully exclaims to God, “Then I acknowledged my sin to you and did not cover up my iniquity. I said, ‘I will confess my transgression to the Lord.’ And you forgave my guilt” (v. 5, NIV). God wants to eradicate sin’s guilt and power from our lives, just as my grandfather eradicated the biting insect from my arm. He longs to set us free from our misery. However, we must uncover our sin before God in confession, as David did. This doesn’t mean that God is clueless about the sin in our lives prior to our confession. However, when we confess our sin before God, we are agreeing with God that a certain habit, action, attitude, or speech, is outside of the good desires God has for our lives. We are agreeing that our sin brings harm to ourselves, others, and our relationship with God. After all, sin is not merely running a moral stoplight. At its core, sin is relational. In our confession of sin, we are acknowledging that God has better desires and plans for us.

Is there a sin that is weighing you down? If so, take some time to confess it before the God who loves you so much that He sent His one and only son for you. David gives witness that there is joy in doing so. “Oh, what joy for those whose disobedience is forgiven, whose sin is put out of sight! Yes, what joy for those whose record the Lord has cleared of guilt” (vv. 1, 2, NLT).